ft- 


. 


University  of  California  •  Berkeley 

From  the  Collection  of 
JOSEPH  Z.  TODD 

Gift  of 
Hatherly  B.  Todd 


# 


c/ 


THE  WORKS 


WASHINGTON  IRVING 


VOL.  XV. 
THE    ALHAMBRA. 


NEW  YORK: 

G.    P.    PUTNAM,    441    BROADWAY. 
1864. 


THE     ALHAMBRA. 


• 


GATEWAY    OF   THE    ALHAMBRA 


THE    ALHAMBRA 


BT 

WASHINGTON    IRVING. 


's     REVISED     EDITION. 


NEW  YORK: 
G.   P.   PUTNAM,  441  BROADWAY. 

1864. 


ENTERED,  according  to  Act  of  Congress,  in  the  ytar  1849,  by 
WASHINGTON  IRVINO, 

in  the  Clerk's  Office  of  the  District  Court  for  the  Southern  District 
of  New- York. 


JOHN  P.  TROVT, 
PRINTER,  STEREOTYPER,  AND  ELECTROTYPES, 

46,  48  &  50  Greene  Street, 
New  York. 


CONTENTS. 


PA  01 

THE  JOURNEY,      .......  18 

PALACE  OF  THE  ALHAMBRA,    ....  47 

IMPORTANT  NEGOTIATIONS. — THE  AUTHOR  SUCCEEDS  TO  THS  THRONE  OF 

BOABDIL,  .......         62 

INHABITANTS  OF  THE  ALHAMBRA,        .....  70 

THE  HALL  OF  AMBASSADORS,        .            .            .            .             .  .76 

THE  JESUITS'  LIBRARY,           .....  81 

ALEAMAR,  THE  FOUNDER  OF  THE  ALHAMBRA,                                 .  .         82 

YUSEF  ABUL  HAGIG,  THE  FINISHER  OF  THE  ALHAMBRA,          .  90 

THE  MYSTERIOUS  CHAMBERS,        .....  95 

PANORAMA  FROM  THE  TOWER  OF  COM  ARKS,     .                         .             .  106 

THE  TRUANT,       .......  113 

THE  BALCONY,            .......  117 

THE  ADVENTURE  OF  THE  MASON,  124 

THE  COURT  OF  LIONS,                                                 .            .  128 

THE  ABENCERRAGES,        .                                      .            .  136 

MEMENTOS  OF  BOABDIL,          .                        ...  149 

PUBLIC  FETES  OF  GRANADA,         ...                        .  1 64 

LOCAL  TRADITIONS,                 .        .                              ...  163 

THE  HOUSE  OF  THE  WEATHERCOCK,          .            .            .            .  .166 

LEGEND  OF  THE  ARABIAN  ASTROLOGER,                      .  169 


VI  CONTENTS. 

MM 

VISITORS  TO  THE  ALHAMBEA,       ....  191 

RELICS  AND  GENEALOGIES,      ....  19fl 

THE  GENERALIFE,  .  ...  200 

LEGEND  OF  PRINCE  AHMED  AL  KAMEL  ;  OR  THE  PILGRIM  OF  Lovx,  202 

A  RAMBLE  AMONG  THE  HILLS,      .....  23 

LEGEND  OF  THE  MOOR'S  LEGACY,        .....  2^7 

THE  TOWER  OF  LAS  INFANTAS,    ....  270 

LEGEND  OF  THE  THREE  BEAUTIFUL  PRINCESSES,         .  .  .  272 

LEGEND  OF  THE  ROSE  OF  THE  ALHAMBRA,  .  .  299 

THE  VETERAN,  ....  317 

THE  GOVERNOR  AND  THE  NOTARY,  ....  320 

GOVERNOR  MANCO  AND  THE  SOLDIER,  .  328 

A  FETE  IN  THE  ALHAMBRA,        .....  848 

LEGEND  OF  THE  Two  DISCREET  STATUES,       .  .  .  354 

THE  CRUSADE  OF  THE  GRAND  MASTER  OF  ALCANTARA,    .  .  374 

SPANISH  ROMANCE,     ......  383 

LEGEND  OF  DON  MUNIO  SANCHO  DE  HINOJOSA,   .  .  ,  886 

POETS  AND  POETRY  OF  MOSLEM  AUDALUS,      .  .  »  394 

AN  EXPEDITION  m  QUEST  OF  A  DIPLOMA,  ,  402 

THE  LEGEND  OF  THE  ENCHANTED  SOLDIER,    .  „  406 

Tra  AUTHOR  s  FAREWELL  TO  GRANADA,  .  422 


PREFACE  TO  THE  REVISED  EDITION. 


BOUGH  draughts  of  some  of  the  following  tales  and  essays,  were 
actually  written  during  a  residence  in  the  Alhambra ;  others  were 
subsequently  added,  founded  on  notes  and  observations  made 
there.  Care  was  taken  to  maintain  local  coloring  and  verisimili- 
tude ;  so  that  the  whole  might  present  a  faithful  and  living  pic- 
ture of  that  microcosm,  that  singular  little  world  into  which  I  had 
been  fortuitously  thrown;  and  about  which  the  external  world  had 
a  very  imperfect  idea.  It  was  my  endeavor  scrupulously  to  de- 
pict its  half  Spanish  half  Oriental  character ;  its  mixture  of  the 
heroic,  the  poetic,  and  the  grotesque ;  to  revive  the  traces  of  grace 
and  beauty  fast  fading  from  its  walls ;  to  record  the  regal  and 
chivalrous  traditions  concerning  those  who  once  trod  its  courts ; 
and  the  whimsical  and  superstitious  legends  of  the  motley  race 
now  burrowing  among  its  ruins. 

The  papers  thus  roughly  sketched  out  lay  for  three  or  four 
years  in  my  portfolio,  until  I  found  myself  in  London,  in  1832, 
on  the  eve  of  returning  to  the  United  States.  I  then  endeavored 
to  arrange  them  for  the  press,  but  the  preparations  for  departure 
did  not  allow  sufficient  leisure.  Several  were  thrown  aside  as  in- 


yiii  PREFACE. 

complete ;  the  rest  were  put  together  somewhat  hastily  and  in 
rather  a  crude  and  chaotic  manner. 

In  the  present  edition  I  have  revised  and  re-arranged  the 
whole  work,  enlarged  some  parts,  and  added  others,  including 
the  papers  originally  omitted ;  and  have  thus  endeavored  to  ren- 
der it  more  complete  and  more  worthy  of  the  indulgent  reception 
with  which  it  has  been  favored. 

W.  I. 

Sunnflside,  1861. 


THE  JOURNEY. 


IN  the  spring  of  1829,  the  author  of  this  work,  whom  curiosity 
had  brought  into  Spain,  made  a  rambling  expedition  from 
Seville  to  Granada  in  company  with  a  friend,  a  member  of  the 
Russian  Embassy  at  Madrid.  Accident  had  thrown  us  together 
from  distant  regions  of  the  globe,  and  a  similarity  of  taste  led 
us  to  wander  together  among  the  romantic  mountains  of  Anda- 
lusia. Should  these  pages  meet  his  eye,  wherever  thrown  by  the 
duties  of  his  station,  whether  mingling  in  the  pageantry  of  courts, 
or  meditating  o-n  the  truer  glories  of  nature,  may  they  recall  the 
scenes  of  our  adventurous  companionship,  and  with  them  the  re- 
collection of  one,  in  whom  neither  time  nor  distance  will  oblite- 
rate the  remembrance  of  his  gentleness  and  worth.* 

And  here,  before  setting  forth,  let  me  indulge  in  a  few  pre- 
vious remarks  on  Spanish  scenery  and  Spanish  travelling.  Many 
arc  apt-  to  picture  Spain  to  their  imaginations  as  a  soft  southern 
region,  decked  out  with  the  luxuriant  charms  of  voluptuous 
Italy,  On  the  contrary,  though  there  are  exceptions  in  some  of 
the  maritime  provinces,  yet,  for  the  greater  part,  it  is  a  stern, 

*  Note  to  the  Revised  Edition. — The  Author  feels  at  liberty  to  mention 
that  his  travelling  companion  was  the  Prince  Dolgorould,  at  present  Russian 
minister  at  the  Court  of  Persia. 


14:  THE   JOUKNEY. 

melancholy  country,  with  rugged  mountains,  and  long  sweeping 
plains,  destitute  of  trees,  and  indescribably  silent  and  lonesome, 
partaking  of  the  savage  and  solitary  character  of  Africa.  What 
adds  to  this  silence  and  loneliness,  is  the  absence  of  singing- 
birds,  a  natural  consequence  of  the  want  of  groves  and  hedges. 
The  vulture  and  the  eagle  are  seen  wheeling  about  the  moun- 
tain-cliffs, and  soaring  over  the  plains,  and  groups  of  shy  bus- 
tards stalk  about  the  heaths  ;  but  the  myriads  of  smaller  birds, 
which  animate  -the  whole  face  of  other  countries,  are  met  with 
in  but  few  provinces  in  Spain,  and  in  those  chiefly  among  the 
orchards  and  gardens  which  surround  the  habitations  of  man. 

In  the  interior  provinces  the  traveller  occasionally  traverses 
great  tracts  cultivated  with  grain  as  far  as  the  eye  can  reach, 
waving  at  times  with  verdure,  at  other  times  naked  and  sun- 
burnt, but  he  looks  round  in  vain  for  the  hand  that  has  tilled 
the  soil.  At  length,  he  perceives  some  village  on  a  steep  hill,  or 
rugged  crag,  with,  mouldering  battlements  and  ruined  watch- 
tower  ;  a  strong-hold,  in  old  times,  against  civil  war,  or  Moorish 
inroad  ;  for  the  custom  among  the  peasantry  of  congregating  to- 
gether for  mutual  protection  is  still  kept  up  in  most  parts  of 
Spain,  in  consequence  of  the  maraudings  of  roving  freebooters. 

But  though  a  great  part  of  Spain  is  deficient  in  the  garni- 
ture of  groves  arid  forests,  and  the  softer  charms  of  ornamental 
cultivation,  yet  its  scenery  is  noble  in  its  severity  and  in  unison 
with  the  attributes  of  its  people  ;  and  I  think  that  I  better  un- 
derstand the  proud,  hardy,  frugal  and  abstemious  Spaniard,  his 
manly  defiance  of  hardships,  and  contempt*  of  effeminate  indul- 
gences, since  I  have  seen  the  country  he  inhabits. 

There  is  something  too,  in  the  sternly  simple  features  of  the 
Spanish  landscape,  that  impresses  on  the  soul  a  feeling  of  sul> 


THE   JOUKNEY.  15 

limity.  The  immense  plains  of  the  Castiles  and  of  La  Manoha, 
extending  as  far  as  the  eye  can  reach,  derive  an  interest  from 
their  very  nakedness  and  immensity,  and  possess,  in  some  de- 
gree, the  solemn  grandeur  of  the  ocean.  In  ranging  over  these 
boundless  wastes,  the  eye  catches  sight  here  and  there  of  a  strag- 
gling herd  of  cattle  attended  by  a  lonely  herdsman,  motionless 
as  a  statue,  with  his  long  slender  pike  tapering  up  like  a  lanoe 
into  the  air ;  or,  beholds  a  long  train  of  mules  slowly  moving 
along  the  waste  like  a  train  of  camels  in  the  desert ;  or,  a  single 
horseman,  armed  with  blunderbuss  and  stiletto,  and  prowling 
over  the  plain.  Thus  the  country,  the  habits,  the  very  looks  of 
the  people,  have  something  of  the  Arabian  character.  The  gene- 
ral insecurity  of  the  country  is  evinced  in  the  universal  use  of 
weapons.  .  The  herdsman  in  the  field,  the  shepherd  in  the  plain, 
has  his  musket  and  his  knife.  The  wealthy  villager  rarely  ven- 
tures to  the  market-town  without  his  trabuco,  and,  perhaps,  a 
servant  on  foot  with  a  blunderbuss  on  his  shoulder;  and  the 
most  petty  journey  is  undertaken  with  the  preparation  of  a  war- 
like enterprise. 

The  dangers  of  the  road  produce  also  a  mode  of  travelling, 
resembling,  on  a  diminutive  scale,  the  caravans  of  the  east.  The 
arrieros,  or  carriers,  congregate  in  convoys,  and  set  off  in  large 
and  well-armed  trains  on  appointed  days ;  while  additional 
travellers  swell  their  number,  and  contribute  to  their  strength. 
In  this  primitive  way  is  the  commerce  of  the  country  carried  on. 
The  muleteer  is  the  general  medium  of  traffic,  and  the  legitimate 
traverser  of  the  land,  crossing  the  peninsula  from  the  Pyrenees 
and  the  Asturias  to  the  Alpuxarras,  the  Serrania  de  Honda,  and 
even  to  the  gates  of  Gibraltar.  He  lives  frugally  and  hardily:  his 
alforjas  of  coarse  cloth  hold  his  scanty  stock  of  provisions ;  a 


16  THE  JOUBNEY. 

leathern  bottle,  hanging  at  his  saddle-bow,  contains  wine  01 
water,  for  a  supply  across  barren  mountains  and  thirsty  plains ; 
a  mule-cloth  spread  upon  the  ground  is  his  bed  at  night,  and 
his  pack-saddle  his  pillow.  His  low,  but  clean-limbed  and 
sinewy  form  betokens  strength ;  his  complexion  is  dark  and  sun- 
burnt ;  his  eye  resolute,  but  quiet  in  its  expression,  except  when 
kindled  by  sudden  emotion  ;  his  demeanor  is  frank,  manly,  and 
courteous,  and  he  never  passes  you  without  a  grave  salutation: 
u  Dios  guarde  a  usted !"  "  Va  usted  con  Dios,  Caballero !"  "  God 
guard  you !"  "  God  be  with  you,  Cavalier  !" 

As  these  men  have  often  their  whole  fortune  at  stake  upon 
the  burden  of  their  mules,  they  have  their  weapons  at  hand, 
slung  to  their  saddles,  and  ready  to  be  snatched  out  for  desperate 
defence ;  but  their  united  numbers  render  them  secure  against 
petty  bands  of  marauders,  apd  the  solitary  bandolero,  armed  to 
the  teeth,  and  mounted  on  his  Andalusian  steed,  hovers  about 
them,  like  a  pirate  about  a  merchant  convoy,  without  daring  to 
assault. 

The  Spanish  muleteer  has  an  inexhaustible  stock  of  songs 
and  ballads,  with  which  to  beguile  his  incessant  wayfaring.  The 
airs  are  rude  and  simple,  consisting  of  but  few  inflections.  These 
he  chants  forth  with  a  loud  voice,  and  long,  drawling  cadence, 
seated  sideways  on  his  mule,  who  seems  to  listen  with  infinite 
gravity,  and  to  keep  time,  with  his  paces,  to  the  tune.  The 
couplets  thus  chanted,  are  often  old  traditional  romances  about 
the  Moors,  or  some  legend  of  a  saint,  or  some  love-ditty ;  or,  what 
is  still  more  frequent,  some  ballad  about  a  bold  contrabandista, 
or  hardy  bandolero,  for  the  smuggler  and  the  robber  are  po- 
etical heroes  among  the  common  people  of  Spain.  Often,  the 
song  of  the  muleteer  is  composed  at  the  instant,  and  relates  to 


THE   JOUKNEY.  17 

some  local  scene,  or  some  incident  of  the  journey.  This  talent 
of  singing  and  improvising  is  frequent  in  Spain,  and  is  said  to 
have  been  inherited  from  the  Moors.  There  is  something  wildly 
pleasing  in  listening  to  these  ditties  among  the  rude  and  lonely 
scenes  they  illustrate  ;  accompanied,  as  they  are,  by  the  occasional 
jingle  of  the  mule-bell. 

It  has  a  most  picturesque  effect  also  to  meet  a  train  of  mule- 
teers in  some  mountain-pass.  First  you  hear  the  bells  of  the 
leading  mules,  breaking  with  their  simple  melody  the  stillness 
of  the  airy  height ;  or,  perhaps,  the  voice  of  the  muleteer  admon- 
ishing some  tardy  or  wandering  animal,  or  chanting,  at  the  full 
stretch  of  his  lungs,  some  traditionary  ballad.  At  length  you 
see  the  mules  slowly  winding  along  the  cragged  defile,  sometimes 
descending  precipitous  cliffs,  so  as  to  present  themselves  in  full 
relief  against  the  sky,  sometimes  toiling  up  the  deep  arid  chasms 
below  you.  As  they  approach,  you  descry  their  gay  decorations 
of  worsted  stuffs,  tassels,  and  saddle-cloths,  while,  as  they  pass 
by,  the  ever-ready  trabuco,  slung  behind  the  packs  and  saddles, 
gives  a  hint  of  the  insecurity  of  the  road. 

The  ancient  kingdom  of  Granada,  into  which  we  were  about 
to  penetrate,  is  one  of  the  most  mountainous  regions  of  Spain. 
Yast  sierras,  or  chains  of  mountains,  destitute  of  shrub  or  tree, 
and  mottled  with  variegated  marbles  and  granites,  elevate  their 
sunburnt  summits  against  a  deep-blue  sky ;  yet  in  their  rugged 
bosoms  lie  ingulfed  verdant  and  fertile  valleys,  where  the  desert 
and  the  garden  strive  for  mastery,  and  the  very  rock  is,  as  it 
were,  compelled  to  yield  the  fig,  the  orange,  and  the-  citron,  and 
to  blossom  with  the  myrtle  and  the  rose. 

In  the  wild  passes  of  these  mountains  the  sight  of  walled 
towns  and  villages,  built  like  eagles'  nests  among  the  cliffs,  and 


18  THE   JOURNEY. 

surrounded  by  Moorish  battlements,  or  of  ruined  watchtowers 
perched  on  lofty  peaks,  carries  the  mind  back  to  the  chivalric 
days  of  Christian  and  Moslem  warfare,  and  to  the  romantic 
struggle  for  the  conquest  of  Granada.  In  traversing  these  lofty 
sierras  the  traveller  is  often  obliged  to  alight,  and  lead  his  horse 
up  and  down  the  steep  and  jagged  ascents  and  descents,  resem- 
bling the  broken  steps  of  a  staircase.  Sometimes  the  road 
winds  along  dizzy  precipices,  without  parapet  to  guard  him  from 
the  gulfs  below,  and  then  will  plunge  down  steep,  and  dark,  and 
dangerous  declivities.  Sometimes  it  struggles  through  rugged 
barrancos,  or  ravines,  worn  by  winter  torrents,  the  obscure  path 
of  the  contrabandista ;  while,  ever  and  anon,  the  ominous  cross, 
the  monument  of  robbery  and  murder,  erected  on  a  mound  of 
stones  at  some  lonely  part  of  the  road,  admonishes  the  traveller 
that  he  is  among  the  haunts  of  banditti,  perhaps  at  that  very 
moment  under  the  eye  of  some  lurking  bandolero.  Sometimes, 
in  winding  through  the  narrow  valleys,  he  is  startled  by  a  hoarse 
bellowing,  and  beholds  above  him  on  some  green  fold  of  the 
mountain  a  herd  of  fierce  Andalusian  bulls,  destined  for  the 
combat  of  the  arena.  I  have  felt,  if  I  may  so  express  it,  an 
agreeable  horror  in  thus  contemplating,  near  at  hand,  these  ter- 
rific animals,  clothed  with  tremendous  strength,  and  ranging 
their  native  pastures  in  untamed  wildness,  strangers  almost  to 
the  face  of  man :  they  know  no  one  but  the  solitary  herdsman 
who  attends  upon  them,  and  even  he  at  times  dares  not  venture 
to  approach  them.  The  low  bellowing  of  these  bulls,  and  their 
menacing  aspect  as  they  look  down  from  their  rocky  height,  givo 
additional  wildness  to  the  savage  scenery. 

I  have.been  betrayed  unconsciously  into  a  longer  disquisition 
than  I  intended  on  the  general  features  of  Spanish  travelling ; 


THE   JOURNEY.  19 

but  there  is  a  romance  about  all  the  recollections  of  the  Penin- 
sula dear  to  the  imagination. 

As  our  proposed  route  to  Granada  lay  through  mountainous 
regions,  where  the  roads  are  little  better  than  mule  paths,  and 
said  to  be  frequently  beset  by  robbers,  we  took  due  travelling 
precautions.  Forwarding  the  most  valuable  part  of  our  luggage 
a  day  or  two  in  advance  by  the  arrieros,  we  retained  merely 
clothing  and  necessaries  for  the  journey  and  money  for  the  ex- 
penses of  the  road ;  with  a  little  surplus  of  hard  dollars  by  way 
of  robber  purse,  to  satisfy  the  gentlemen  of  the  road  should  we  be 
assailed.  Unlucky  is  the  too  wary  traveller  who,  having  grudged 
this  precaution,  falls  into  their  clutches  empty  handed :  they  are 
apt  to  give  him  a  sound  ribroasting  for  cheating  them  out  of 
their  dues.  "  Caballeros  like  them  cannot  afford  to  scour  the 
roads  and  risk  the  gallows  for  nothing." 

A  couple  of  stout  steeds  were  provided  for  our  own  mounting, 
and  a  third  for  our  scanty  luggage  and  the  conveyance  of  a  sturdy 
Biscayan  lad,  about  twenty  years  of  age,  who  was  to  be  our  guide, 
our  groom,  our  valet,  and  at  all  times  our  guard.  For  the  latter 
office  he  was  provided  with  a  formidable  trabucho  or  carbine, 
with  which  he  promised  to  defend  us  against  rateros  or  solitary 
footpads ;  but  as  to  powerful  bands,  like  that  of  the  "  sons  of 
Ecija,"  he  confessed  they  were  quite  beyond  his  prowess.  He 
made  much  vainglorious  boast  about  his  weapon  at  the  outset  of 
the  journey ;  though,  to  the  discredit  of  his  generalship,  it  was 
Buffered  to  hang  unloaded  behind  his  saddle. 

According  to  our  stipulations,  the  man  from  whom  we  hired 
the  horses  was  to  be  at  the  expense  of  their  feed  and  stabling  on 
the  journey,  as  well  as  of  the  maintenance  of  our  Biscayan  squire, 
who  of  course  was  provided  with  funds  for  the  purpose ;  we  took 


20  THE   JOUKNEY. 

care,  however,  to  give  the  latter  a  private  hint,  that,  though  we 
made  a  close  bargain  with  his  master,  it  was  all  in  his  favor,  as, 
if  he  proved  a  good  man  arid  true,  both  he  and  the  horses  should 
live  at  our  cost,  and  the  money  provided  for  their  maintenance 
remain  in  his  pocket.  This  unexpected  largess,  with  the  occa- 
sional present  of  a  cigar,  won  his  heart  completely.  He  was,  in 
truth,  a  faithful,  cheery,  kind-hearted  creature,  as  full  of  saws 
and  proverbs  as  that  miracle  of  squires,  the  renowned  Sancho 
nimself,  whose  name,  by  the  by,  we  bestowed  upon  him,  and  liko 
a  true  Spaniard,  though  treated  by  us  with  companionable  fami- 
liarity, he  never  for' a  moment,  in  his  utmost  hilarity,  overstepped 
the  bounds  of  respectful  decorum. 

Such  were  our  minor  preparations  for  the  journey,  but  above 
all  we  laid  in  an  ample  stock  of  good  humor,  and  a  genuine  dis- 
position to  be  pleased ;  determining  to  travel  in  true  contraban- 
dista  style  ;  taking  things  as  we  found  them,  rough  or  smooth,  and 
mingling  with  all  classes  and  conditions  in  a  kind  of  vagabond 
companionship.  It  is  the  true  way  to  travel  in  Spain.  With 
such  disposition  and  determination,  what  a  country  is  it  for  a 
traveller,  where  the  most  miserable  inn  is  as  frll  of  adventure  as 
an  enchanted  castle,  and  every  meal  is  in  itself  an  achievement ! 
Let  others  repine  at  the  lack  of  turnpike  roads  and  sumptuous 
hotels,  and  all  the  elaborate  comforts  of  a  country  cultivated  and 
civilized  into  tameness  and  commonplace ;  but  give  me  the  rude 
mountain  scramble  ;  the  roving,  haphazard,  wayfaring  ;  the  half 
wild,  yet  frank  and  hospitable  manners,  which  impart  such  a  true 
game  flavor  to  dear  old  romantic  Spain  ! 

Thus  equipped  and  attended,  we  cantered  out  of  "  Fair  Seville 
city"  at  half-past  six  in  the  morning  of  a  bright  May  day,  in  com- 
pany with  a  lady  and  gentleman  of  our  acquaintance,  who  rode  e 


THE   JOUENEY. 


si 


few  miles  with  us,  in  the  Spanish  mode  of  taking  leave  Our  route 
lay  through  old  Alcala  de  G-uadaira  (Alcala  on  the  river  Aira), 
the  benefactress  of  Seville  "that  supplies  it  with  bread  and  water. 
Here  live  the  bakers  who  furnish  Seville  with  that  delicious  bread 
for  which  it  is  renowned ;  here  are  fabricated  those  roscas  well 
known  by  the  well-merited  appellation  of  pan  de  Dios  (bread  of 
God) ;  with  which,  by  the  way,  we  ordered  our  man,  Sancho,  to 
stock  his  alforjas  for  the  journey.  Well  has  this  beneficent  little 
city  been  denominated  the  "  Oven  of  Seville ;"  well  has  it  been 
called  Alcala  de  los  Panaderos  (Alcala  of  the  bakers),  for  a  great 
part  of  its  inhabitants  are  of  that  handicraft,  and  the  highway 
hence  to  Seville  is  constantly  traversed  by  lines  of  mules  and 
donkeys  laden  with  great  panniers  of  loaves  and  roscas. 

I  have  said  Alcala  supplies  Seville  with  water.  Here  are 
great  tanks  or  reservoirs,  of  Roman  and  Moorish  construction, 
whence  water  is  conveyed  to  Seville  by  noble  aqueducts.  The 
springs  of  Alcala  are  almost  as  much  vaunted  as  its  ovens ;  and 
to  the  lightness,  sweetness,  and  purity  of  its  water  is  attributed 
in  some  measure  the  delicacy  of  its  bread. 

Here  we  halteS  for  a  time,  at  the  ruins  of  the  old  Moorish 
castle,  a  favorite  resort  for  pic-nic  parties  from  Seville,  where  we 
had  passed  many  a  pleasant  hour.  The  walls  are  of  great  extent, 
pierced  with  loopholes ;  inclosing  a  huge  square  tower  or  keep, 
with  the  remains  of  masmoras,  or  subterranean  granaries.  The 
Guadaira  winds  its  stream  round  the  hill,  at  the  foot  of  these 
ruins,  whimpering  among  reeds,  rushes,  and  pond-lilies,  and  over- 
hung with  rhododendron,  eglantine,  yellow  myrtle,  and  a  profu- 
sion of  wild  flowers  and  aromatic  shrubs ;  while  along  its  banks 
are  groves  of  oranges,  citrons,  and  pomegranates,  among  which 
wo  heard  the  early  note  of  the  nightingale. 


22  THE   JOURNEY. 

A  picturesque  bridge  was  thrown  across  the  little  river,  at  one 
end  of  which  was  the  ancient  Moorish  mill  of  the  castle,  defended 
by  a  tower  of  yellow  stone ;  a  fisherman's  net  hung  against  the 
wall  to  dry,  and  hard  by  in  the  river  was  his  boat ;  a  group  of 
peasant  women  in  bright-colored  dresses,  crossing  the  arched 
bridge,  were  reflected  in  the  placid  stream.  Altogether  it  was  an 
admirable  scene  for  a  landscape  painter. 

The  old  Moorish  mills,  so  often  found  on  secluded  streams, 
are  characteristic  objects  in  Spanish  landscape,  and  suggestive  of 
the  perilous  times  of  old.  They  are  of  stone,  and  often  in  the 
form  of  towers  with  loopholes  and  battlements,  capable  of  defence 
in  those  warlike  days  when  the  country  on  both  sides  of  the 
border  was  subject  to  sudden  inroad  and  hasty  ravage,  and 
when  men  had  to  labor  with  their  weapons  at  hand,  and  some 
place  of  temporary  refuge. 

Our  next  halting  place  was  at  Gandul,  where  were  the  remains 
of  another  Moorish  castle,  with  its  ruined  tower,  a  nestling  place 
for  storks,  and  commanding  a  view  over  a  vast  campina  or  fertile 
plain,  with  the  mountains  of  Honda  in  the  distance.  These 
castles  were  strong-holds  to  protect  the  plains  from  the  talas  or 
forays  to  which  they  were  subject,  when  the  fields  of  corn  would 
be  laid  waste,  the  flocks  and  herds  swept  from  the  vast  pastures, 
and,  together  with  captive  peasantry,  hurried  off  in  long  cavalga- 
das  across  the  borders. 

At  Gandul  we  found  a  tolerable  posada ;  the  good  folks  could 
not  tell  us  what  time  of  day  it  was,  the  clock  only  struck  once  in 
the  day,  two  hours  after  noon ;  until  that  time  it  was  guess  work, 
We  guessed  it  was  full  time  to  eat ;  so,  alighting,  we  ordered  a  re- 
past. While  that  was  in  preparation,  we  visited  the  palace  once  the 
residence  of  the  Marquis  of  Gandul.  All  was  gone  to  decay ;  there 


THE  JOURNEY.  23 

were  but  two  or  three  rooms  habitable,  and  very  poorly  furnished. 
Yet  here  were  the  remains  of  grandeur ;  a  terrace,  where  fair 
dames  and  gentle  cavaliers  may  once  have  walked ;  a  fish-pond 
and  ruined  garden,  with  grape-vines  and  date-bearing  palm-trees. 
Here  we  were  joined  by  a  fat  curate,  who  gathered  a  bouquet  of 
oses  and  presented  it,  very  gallantly,  to  the  lady  who  accom- 
panied us. 

Below  the  palace  was  the  mill,  with  orange-trees  and  aloes 
in  front,  and  a  pretty  stream  of  pure  water.  We  took  a  seat  in 
the  shade,  and  the  millers,  all  leaving  their  work,  sat  down  and 
smoked  with  us;  for  the  Andalusians  are  always  ready  for  a 
gossip.  They  were  waiting  for  the  regular  visit  of  the  barber, 
who  came  once  a  week  to  put  all  their  chins  in  order.  He 
arrived  shortly  afterwards ;  a  lad  of  seventeen,  mounted  on  a 
donkey,  eager  to  display  his  new  alforjas  or  saddle-bags,  just 
bought  at  a  fair ;  price  one  dollar,  to  be  paid  on  St.  John's  day 
(in  June),  by  which  time  he  trusted  to  have  mown  beards  enough 
to  put  him  in  funds. 

By  the  time  the  laconic  clock  of  the  castle  had  struck  two  we 
had  finished  our  dinner.  So,  taking  leave  of  our  Seville  friends,  and 
leaving  the  millers  still  under  the  hands  of  the  barber,  we  set  off 
on  our  ride  across  the  campina.  It  was  one  of  those  vast  plains, 
common  in  Spain,  where  for  miles  and  miles  there  is  neither 
house  nor  tree.  Unlucky  the  traveller  who  has  to  traverse  it, 
exposed  as  we  were  to  heavy  and  repeated  showers  of  rain.  There 
is  no  escape  nor  shelter.  Our  only  protection  was  our  Spanish 
cloaks,  which  nearly  covered  man  and  horse,  but  grew  heavier  every 
mile.  By  the  time  we  had  lived  through  one  shower  we  would 
see  another  slowly  but  inevitably  approaching ;  fortunately  in  the 
interval  there  would  be  an  outbreak  of  bright,  warm,  Andalusian 


24  THE   JOURNEY. 

sunshine,  which  would  make  our  cloaks  send  up  wreaths  of  steam 
but  which  partially  dried  them  before  the  next  drenching. 

Shortly  after  sunset  we  arrived  at  Arahal,  a  little  town  among 
the  hills.  We  found  it  in  a  bustle  with  a  party  of  miquelets,  wh 
wore  patrolling  the  country  to  ferret  out  robbers.  The  appearance 
of  foreigners  like  ourselves  was  an  unusual  circumstance  in  an 
interior  country  town ;  and  little  Spanish  towns  of  the  kind  are 
easily  put  in  a  state  of  gossip  and  wonderment  by  such  an  occur- 
rence. Mine  host,  with  two  or  three  old  wiseacre  comrades  in 
brown  cloaks,  studied  our  passports  in  a  corner  of  the  posada, 
while  an  Alguazil  took  notes  by  the  dim  light  of  a  lamp.  The 
passports  were  in  foreign  languages  and  perplexed  them,  but  our 
Squire  Sancho  assisted  them  in  their  studies,  and  magnified  our  im- 
portance with  the  grandiloquence  of  a  Spaniard.  In  the  mean  time 
the  magnificent  distribution  of  a  few  cigars  had  won  the  hearts  of 
all  around  us ;  in  a  little  while  the  whole  community  seemed  put 
in  agitation  to  make  us  welcome.  The  corregidor  himself  waited 
upon  us,  and  a  great  rush-bottomed  arm-chair  was  ostentatiously 
bolstered  into  our  room  by  our  landlady,  for  the  accommodation 
of  that  important  personage.  The  commander  of  the  patrol  took 
supper  with  us ;  a  lively,  talking,  laughing  Andaluz,  who  had 
made  a  campaign  in  South  America,  and  recounted  his  exploits  in 
love  and  war  with  much  pomp  of  phrase,  vehemence  of  gesticula- 
tion, and  mysterious  rolling  of  the  eye.  He  told  us  that  he  had 
a  list  of  all  the  robbers  in  the  country,  and  meant  to  ferret  out 
every  mother's  son  of  them ;  he  offered  us  at  the  same  time  some 
of  his  soldiers  as  an  escort.  "  One  is  enough  to  protect  you, 
eenors ;  the  robbers  know  me,  and  know  my  men ;  the  sight  of 
one  is  enough  to  spread  terror  through  a  whole  sierra."  We 
thanked  him  for  his  offer,  but  assured  him,  in  his  own  strain,  that 


THE  JOURNEY.  25 

with  the  protection  of  our  redoubtable  squire,  Sancho,  we  were 
not  afraid  of  all  the  ladrones  of  Andalusia. 

While  we  were  supping  with  our  drawcansir  friend,  we  heard 
the  notes  of  a  guitar,  and  the  click  of  castanets,  and  presently  a 
chorus  of  voices  singing  a  popular  air.  In  fact  mine  host  had 
gathered  together  the  amateur  singers  and  musicians,  and  tho 
rustic  belles  of  the  neighborhood,  and,  on  going  forth,  the  court- 
yard or  patio  of  the  inn  presented  a  scene  of  true  Spanish  festi- 
vity. "We  took  our  seats  with  mine  host  and  hostess  and  the 
commander  of  the  patrol,  under  an  archway  opening  into  the 
court ;  the  guitar  passed  from  hand  to  hand,  but  a  jovial  shoe- 
maker was  the  Orpheus  of  the  place.  He  was  a  pleasant-looking 
fellow,  with  huge  black  whiskers ;  his  sleeves  were  rolled  up  to 
his  elbows.  He  touched  the  guitar  with  masterly  skill,  and  sang 
a  little  amorous  ditty  with  an  expressive  leer  at  the  women,  with 
whom  he  was  evidently  a  favorite.  He  afterwards  danced  a  fan- 
dango with  a  buxom  Andalusian  damsel,  to  the  great  delight  of 
the  spectators.  But  none  of  the  females  present  could  compare 
with  mine  host's  pretty  daughter,  Pepita,  who  had  slipped  away 
and  made  her  toilette  for  the  occasion,  and  had  covered  her  head 
with  roses ;  and  who  distinguished  herself  in  a  bolero  with  a 
handsome  young  dragoon.  We  ordered  our  host  to  let  wine  and 
refreshment  circulate  freely  among  the  company,  yet,  though 
there  was  &  motley  assembly  of  soldiers,  muleteers,  and  villagers, 
no  one  exceeded  the  bounds  of  sober  enjoyment.  The  scene  was 
a  study  for  a  painter:  the  picturesque  group  of  dancers,  the 
troopers  in  their  half  military  dresses,  the  peasantry  wrapped  in 
their  brown  cloaks  ;  nor  must  I  omit  to  mention  the  old  meagre 
Alguazil,  in  a  short  black  cloak,  who  took  no  notice  of  any  thing 
going  on,  but  sat  in  a  corner  diligently  writing  by  the  dim  light 


26  THE   JOUBNEY. 

of  a  huge  copper  lamp,  that  might  have  figured  in  the  days  of 
Don  Quixote. 

The  following  morning  was  bright  and  balmy,  as  a  May 
morning  ought  to  be,  according  to  the  poets.  Leaving  Arahal 
at  seven  o'clock,  with  all  the  posada  at  the  door  to  cheer  us  off, 
we  pursued  our  way  through  a  fertile  country,  covered  with  grain 
and  beautifully  verdant;  but  which  in  summer,  when  the  harvest 
is  over  and  the  fields  parched  and  brown,  must  be  monotonous 
and  lonely;  for,  as  in  our  ride  of  yesterday,  there  were  neither 
houses  nor  people  to  be  seen.  The  latter  all  congregate  in  vil- 
lages and  strong-holds  among  the  hills,  as  if  these  fertile  plains 
were  still  subject  to  the  ravages  of  the  Moor. 

At  noon  we  came  to  where  there  was  a  group  of  trees,  beside 
a  brook  in  a  rich  meadow.  Here  we  alighted  to  make  our  mid- 
day meal.  It  was  really  a  luxurious  spot,  among  wild  flowers 
and  aromatic  herbs,  with  birds  singing  around  us.  Knowing  the 
scanty  larders  of  Spanish  inns,  and  the  houseless  tracts  we  might 
have  to  traverse,  we  had  taken  care  to  have  the  alforjas  of  our 
squire  well  stocked  with  cold  provisions,  and  his  bota,  or  leathern 
bottle,  which  might  hold  a  gallon,  filled  to  the  neck  with  choice 
Yaldepefias  wine.*  As  we  depended  more  upon  these  for  our 
well-being  than  even  his  trabucho,  we  exhorted  him  to  be  more 
attentive  in  keeping  them  well  charged ;  and  I  must  do  him  the 
Justice  to  say  that  his  namesake,  the  trencher-loving  ^Sancho 

*  It  may  be  as  well  to  note  here,  that  the  alforjas  are  square  pockets  at 
each  end  of  a  long  cloth  about  a  foot  and  a  half  wide,  formed  by  turning  up 
its  extremities.  The  cloth  is  then  thrown  over  the  saddle,  and  the  pockets 
hang  on  each  side  like  saddle-bags.  It  is  an  Arab  invention.  The  bota  ia 
a  leathern  bag  or  bottle,  of  portly  dimensions,  with  a  narrow  neck.  It  is  also 
oriental.  Hence  the  scriptural  caution,  which  perplexed  me  in  my  boyhood, 
uot  to  put  new  wine  into  old  bottles. 


THE   JOURNEY.   '  27 

Panza,  was  never  a  more  provident  purveyor.  Though  the  alfor- 
jas  and  the  bota  were  frequently  and  vigorously  assailed  through- 
out the  journey,  they  had  a  wonderful  power  of  repletion,  our 
vigilant  squire  sacking  every  thing  that  remained  from  our 
repasts  at  the  inns,  to  supply  these  junketings  by  the  road-side, 
which  were  his  delight. 

On  the  present  occasion  he  spread  quite  a  sumptuous  variety 
of  remnants  on  the  green-sward  before  us,  graced  with  an  excel- 
lent ham  brought  from  Seville  ;  then,  taking  his  seat  at  a  little 
distance,  he  solaced  himself  with  what  remained  in  the  alforjas. 
A  visit  or  two  to  the  bota  made  him  as  merry  and  chirruping  as 
a  grasshopper  filled  with  dew.  On  my  comparing  his  contents 
of  the  alforjas  to  Sancho's  skimming  of  the  flesh-pots  at  the 
wedding  of  Cammacho.  I  found  he  was  well  versed  in  the  history 
of  Don  Quixote,  but,  like  many  of  the  common  people  of  Spain, 
firmly  believed  it  to  be  a  true  history. 

"  All  that  happened  a  long  time  ago,  senor,"  said  he,  with  an 
inquiring  look. 

"  A  very  long  time,"  I  replied. 

c:  I  dare  say  more  than  a  thousand  years" — still  looking 
dubiously. 

"  I  dare  say  not  less." 

The  squire  was  satisfied.  Nothing  pleased  the  simple-hearted 
varlet  more  than  my  comparing  him  to  the  renowned  Sancho  for 
devotion  to  the  trencher ;  and  he  called  himself  by  no  other  name 
throughout  the  journey. 

Our  repast  being  finished,  we  spread  our  cloaks  on  the  green 
sward  under  the  tree,  and  took  a  luxurious  siesta  in  the  Spanish 
fashion.     The  clouding  up  of  the  weather,  however,  warned  us  to 
depart,  and  a  harsh  wind  sprang  up  from  the  southeast.    Towards 


28  THE    JOURNEY. 

five  o'clock  we  arrived  at  Osuna,  a  town  of  fifteen  thousand  inhab 
itants,  situated  on  the  side  of  a  hill,  with  a  church  and  a  ruined 
castle,  The  posada  was  outside  of  the  walls  ;  it  had  a  cheerless 
look.  The  evening  being  cold,  the  inhabitants  were  crowded 
round  a  brasero  in  a  chimney  corner ;  and  the  hostess  was  a  dry 
old  woman,  who  looked  like  a  mummy.  Every  one  eyed  us 
askance  as  we  entered,  as  Spaniards  are  apt  to  regard  strangers ; 
a  cheery,  respectful  salutation  on  our  part,  caballeroing  them  and 
touching  our  sombreros,  set  Spanish  pride  at  ease ;  and  when  we 
took  our  seat  among  them,  lit  our  cigars,  and  passed  the  cigar- 
box  round  among  them,  our  victory  was  complete.  I  have  never 
known  a  Spaniard,  whatever  his  rank  or  condition,  who  would 
suffer  himself  to  be  outdone  in  courtesy ;  and  to  the  common 
Spaniard  the  present  of  a  cigar  (puro)  is  irresistible.  Care,  how- 
ever, must  be  taken  never  to  offer  him  a  present  with  an  air  of 
superiority  and  condescension ;  he  is  too  much  of  a  caballero  to 
receive  favors  at  the  cost  of  his  dignity. 

Leaving  Osuna  at  an  early  hour  the  next  morning,  we  entered 
the  sierra  or  range  of  mountains.  The  road  wound  through 
picturesque  scenery,  but  lonely ;  and  a  cross  here  and  there  by 
the  road  side,  the  sign  of  a  murder,  showed  that  we  were  now 
coming  among  the  "robber  haunts."  This  wild  and  intricate 
country,  with  its  silent  plains  and  valleys  intersected  by  mountains, 
has  ever  been  famous  for  banditti.  It  was  here  that  Omar  Ibn 
Hassan,  a  robber-chief  among  the  Moslems,  held  ruthless  sway  in 
the  ninth  century,  disputing  dominion  even  with  the  caliphs  c 
Cordova.  This  too  was  a  part  of  the  regions  so  often  ravaged 
during  the  reign  of  Ferdinand  and  Isabella  by  Ali  Atar,  the  old 
Moorish  alcayde  of  Loxa,  father-in-law  of  Boabdil,  so  that  it  waa 
called  Ali  Atar's  garden,  and  here  "Jose  Maria,"  famous  in 
Spanish  brigand  story,  had  his  favorite  lurking  places. 


THE    JOURNFA'.  29 

III  the  course  of  the  day  we  passed  through  Fuente  la  Piedra 
near  a  little  salt  lake  of  the  same  name,  a  beautiful  sheet  of  water, 
reflecting  like  a  mirror  the  distant  mountains.  We  now  came  in 
sight  of  Antiquera,  that  old  city  of  warlike  reputation,  lying  in 
the  lap  of  the  great  sierra  which  runs  through  Andalusia.  A 
noble  vega  spread  out  before  it,  a  picture  of  mild  fertility  set  in 
a  frame  of  rocky  mountains.  Crossing  a  gentle  river  we  ap- 
proached the  city  between  hedges  and  gardens,  in  which  nightin- 
gales were  pouring  forth  their  evening  song.  About  nightfall  we 
arrived  at  the  gates.  Every  thing  in  this  venerable  city  has  a 
decidedly  Spanish  stamp.  It  lies  too  much  out  of  the  frequented 
track  of  foreign  travel  to  have  its  old  usages  trampled  out.  Here 
I  observed  old  men  still  wearing  the  montero,  or  ancient  hunting 
cap,  once  common  throughout  Spain ;  while  the  young  men  wore 
the  little  round-crowned  hat,  with  brim  turned  up  all  round,  like 
a  cup  turned  down  in  its  saucer ;  while  the  brim  was  set  ofl 
with  little  black  tufts  like  cockades.  The  women,  too,  were 
all  in  mantillas  and  basquinas.  The  fashions  of  Paris  had  not 
reached  Antiquera. 

Pursuing  our  course  through  a  spacious  street^  we  put  up  at 
the  posada  of  San  Fernando.  As  Antiquera,  though  a  consider- 
able city,  is,  as  I  observed,  somewhat  out  of  the  track  of  travel, 
I  had  anticipated  bad  quarters  and  poor  fare  at  the  inn.  I  was 
agreeably  disappointed,  therefore,  by  a  supper  table  amply  sup- 
plied, and  what  were  still  more  acceptable,  good  clean  rooms  and 
comfortable  beds.  Our  man,  Sancho,  felt  himself  as  well  off  as 
his  namesake,  when  he  had  the  run  of  the  duke's  kitchen,  and 
let  me  know,  as  I  retired  for  the  night,  that  it  had  been  a  proud 
time  for  the  alforjas. 

Early  in  the  morning  (May  4th)  I  strolled  to  the  ruins  of  th? 


30  THE   JOUKNEY. 

old  Moorish  castle,  which  itself  had  been  reared  on  the  ruins  of  a 
Roman  fortress.  Here,  taking  my  seat  on  the  remains  of  a 
crumbling  tower,  I  enjoyed  a  grand  and  varied  landscape,  beauti- 
ful in  itself,  and  full  of  storied  and  romantic  associations ;  for  1 
was  now  in  the  very  heart  of  the  country  famous  for  the  chival- 
rous contests  between  Moor  and  Christian.  Below  me,  in  its 
lap  of  hills,  lay  the  old  warrior  city  so  often  mentioned  in 
chronicle  and  ballad.  Out  of  yon  gate  and  down  yon  hill  parad- 
ed the  band  of  Spanish  cavaliers,  of  highest  rank  and  bravest 
bearing,  to  make  that  foray  during  the  war  and  conquest  of 
Granada,  which  ended  in  the  lamentable  massacre  among  the 
mountains  of  Malaga,  and  laid  all  Andalusia  in  mourning. 
Beyond  spread  out  the  vega,  covered  with  gardens  and  orchards 
and  fields  of  grain  and  enamelled  meadows,  inferior  only  to  the 
famous  vega  of  Granada.  To  the  right  the  Rock  of  the  Lovers 
stretched  like  a  cragged  promontory  into  the  plain,  whence  the 
daughter  of  the  Moorish  alcayde  and  her  lover,  when  closely 
pursued,  threw  themselves  in  despair. 

The  matin  peal  from  church  and  convent  below  me  rang 
sweetly  in  the  morning  air,  as  I  descended.  The  market  place 
was  beginning  to  throng  with  the  populace,  who  traffic  in  .the 
abundant  produce  of  the  vega ;  for  this  is  the  mart  of  an  agricul- 
tural region.  In  the  market-place  were  abundance  of  freshly 
plucked  roses  for  sale ;  for  not  a  dame  or  damsel  of  Andalusia 
thinks  her  gala  dress  complete  without  a  rose  shining  like  a  gem 
among  her  raven  tresses. 

On  returning  to  the  inn  I  found  our  man  Sancho,  in  high 
gossip  with  the  landlord  and  two  or  three  of  his  hangers-on.  HG 
had  just  been  telling  some  marvellous  story  about  Seville,  which 
mine  host  seemed  piqued  to  match  with  one  equally  marvellous 


TIIK 


31 


about  Antiquera.  There  was  once  a  fountain,  he  said,  in  one  of 
the  public  squares  called  //  fuente  del  toro,  the  fountain  of  tho 
bull,  because  the  water  gushed  from  the  mouth  of  a  bull's  head, 
carved  of  stone.  Underneath  the  head  was  inscribed  : 

En  frente  del  toro 
Se  hallen  tesoro. 

(In  front  of  the  bull  there  is  treasure.)  Many  digged  in  front 
of  the  fountain,  but  lost  their  labor  and  found  no  money.  At  last 
one  knowing  fellow  construed  the  motto  a  different  way.  It  is 
in  the  forehead  (frente)  of  the  bull  that  the  treasure  is  to  be  found, 
said  he  to  himself,  and  I  am  the  man  to  find  it.  Accordingly  he 
came  late  at  night,  with  a  mallet,  and  knocked  the  head  to  pieces ; 
and  what  do  you  think  he  found  ? 

"  Plenty  of  gold  and  diamonds  !"  cried  Sancho  eagerly. 

"  He  found  nothing,"  rejoined  mine  host  dryly ;  "  and  he 
ruined  the  fountain." 

Here  a  great  laugh  was  set  up  by  the  landlord's  hangers-on  ; 
who  considered  Sancho  completely  taken  in  by  what  I  presume 
was  one  of  mine  host's  standing  jokes.  • 

Leaving  Antiquera  at  eight  o'clock,  we  had  a  delightful  ride 
along  the  little  river,  and  by  gardens  and  orchards,  fragrant  with 
the  odors  of  spring  and  vocal  with  the  nightingale.  Our  road 
passed  round  the  Rock  of  the  Lovers  (el  penon  de  los  enamora- 
dos),  which  rose  in  a  precipice  above  us.  In  the  course  of  the 
morning  we  passed  through  Archidona,  situated  in  the  breast  of 
a  high  hill,  with  a  three-pointed  mountain  towering  above  it.  and 
the  ruins  of  a  Moorish  fortress.  It  was  a  great  toil  to  ascend  a 
steep  stony  street  leading  up  into  the  city,  although  it  bore  the 
encouraging  name  of  Calle  Real  del  Llano  (the  royal  street  of  tlje 


32  THE    JOURNEY. 

plain),  but  it  was  still  a  greater  toil  to  descend  from  this  moan 
tain  city  on  the  other  side. 

At  noon  we  halted  in  sight  of  Archidona,  in  a  pleasant  little 
meadow  among  hills  covered  with  olive-trees.  Our  cloaks  were 
spread  on  the.  grass,  under  an  elm  by  the  side  of  a  bubbling  rivu- 
let ;  our  horses  were  tethered  where  they  might  crop  the  herbage, 
and  Sancho  was  told  to  produce  his  alforjas.  He  had  been  un- 
usually silent  this  morning  ever  since  the  laugh  raised  at  his  ex- 
pense, but  now  his  countenance  brightened,  and  he  produced  his 
alforjas  with  an  air  of  triumph.  They  contained  the  contribu 
tions  of  four  days'  journeying,  but  had  been  signally  enriched  by 
the  foraging  of  the  previous  evening  in  the  plenteous  inn  at  An- 
tiquera ;  and  this  seemed  to  furnish  him  with  a  set-off  to  the 
banter  of  mine  host. 

En  frente  del  toro 
Se  hallen  tesoro 

would  he  exclaim,  with  a  chuckling  laugh,  as  he  drew  forth 
the  heterogeneous  contents  one  by  one,  in  a  series  which 
.seemed  to  have  no  end.  First  came  forth  a  shoulder  of 
roasted  kid,  very  little  the  worse  for  wear  ;  then  an  entire 
partridge  ;  then  a  great  morsel  of  salted  codfish  wrapped  in  pa- 
per ;  then  the  residue  of  a  ham ;  then  the  half  of  a  pullet,  toge- 
ther with  several  rolls  of  bread,  and  a  rabble  rout  of  oranges, 
figs,  raisins,  and  walnuts.  His  bota  also  had  been  recruited  with 
some  excellent  wine  of  Malaga.  At  every  fresh  apparition  from 
his  larder,  he  would  enjoy  our  ludicrous  surprise,  throwing  him- 
self  back  on  the  grass,  shouting  with  laughter,  and  exclaiming 
u  Frente  del  toro  ! — frente  del  toro  !  Ah.  sefiors,  they  thought 
Sancho  a  simpleton  at  Antiquera;  but  Sancho  knew  where  to  find 
the  tesoro." 


THE   JOURNEY.  33 

While  we  were  diverting  ourselves  with  his  simple  drollery,  a 
solitary  beggar  approached,  who  had  almost  the  look  of  a  pilgrim. 
He  had  a  venerable  gray  beard,  and  was  evidently  very  old,  sup- 
porting himself  on  a  staff,  yet  age  had  not  bowed  him  down  ;  he 
was  tall  and  erect,  and  had  the  wreck  of  a  fine  form.  He  wore  a 
round  Andalusian  hat.  a  sheep-skin  jacket,  and  leathern  breeches, 
gaiters,  and  sandals.  Jlis  dress,  though  old  and  patched,  waa 
decent,  his  demeanor  manly,  and  he  addressed  us  with  the  grave 
courtesy  that  is  to  be  remarked  in  the  lowest  Spaniard.  We 
were  in  a  favorable  mood  for  such  a  visitor ;  and  in  a  freak  of 
capricious  charity  gave  him  some  silver,  a  loaf  of  fine  wheaten 
bread,  and  a  goblet  of  our  choice  wine  of  Malaga.  He  received 
hem  thankfully,  but  without  any  grovelling  tribute  of  gratitude, 
fasting  the  wine,  he  held  it  up  to  the  light,  with  a  slight  beam 
sf  surprise  in  his  eye,  then  quaffing  it  off  at  a  draught ;  "  It  ia 
many  years,"  said  he,  "  since  I  have  tasted  such  wine.  It  is  a 
cordial  to  an  old  man's  heart."  Then,  looking  at  the  beautiful 
wheaten  loaf,  "  bendito  sea  tal  pan  /"  u  blessed  be  such  bread  !" 
So  saying,  he  put  it  in  his  wallet.  We  urged  him  to  eat  it  on  the 
tspot.  "  No,  sefiors,"  replied  he,  "  the  wine  I  had  either  to  drink 
or  leave ;  but  the  bread  I  may  take  home  to  share  with  my 
family." 

Our  man  Sancho  sought  our  eye,  and  reading  permission  there, 
gave  the  old  man  some  of  the  ample  fragments  of  our  repast,  on 
condition,  however,  that  he  should  sit  down  and  make  a  meal. 

He  accordingly  took  his  seat  at  some  little  distance  from  us, 
and  began  to  eat  slowly,  and  with  a  sobriety  and  decorum  that 
would  have  become  a  hidalgo.  There  was  altogether  a  measured 
manner  and  a  quiet  self-possession  about  the  old  man,  that  made 
ine  think  that  he  had  seen  better  days  :  his  language  too,  though 


34:  THE   JOURNEY. 

eimple,  had  occasionally  something  picturesque  and  almost  poeti- 
cal in  the  phraseology.  I  set  him  down  for  some  broken-down 
cavalier.  I  was  mistaken  ;  it  was  nothing  but  the  innate  cour- 
tesy of  a  Spaniard,  and  the  poetical  turn  of  thought  and  language 
often  to  be  found  in  the  lowest  classes  of  this  clear-witted  people. 
For  fifty  years,  he  told  us,  he  had  been  -a  shepherd,  but  now  h<» 
was  out  of  employ  and  destitute.  "  When  I  was  a  young  man," 
said  he,  "  nothing  could  harm  or  trouble  me  ;  I  was  always  well, 
always  gay  ;  but  now  I  am  seventy-nine  years  of  age,  and  a  beg- 
gar, and  my  heart  begins  to  fail  me." 

Still  he  was  not  a  regular  mendicant :  it  was  not  until  re- 
cently that  want  had  driven  him  to  this  degradation  ;  and  he  gave 
a  touching  picture  of  the  struggle  between  hunger  and  pride, 
when  abject  destitution  first  came  upon  him.  He  was  returning 
from  Malaga  without  money ;  he  had  not  tasted  food  for  some 
time,  and  was  crossing  one  of  the  great  plains  of  Spain,  where 
there  were  but  few  habitations.  When  almost  dead  with  hunger, 
he  applied  at  the  door  of  a  venta  or  country  inn.  "  Perdon  usted 
por  Dios  kermano  /"  (Excuse  us,  brother,  for  God's  sake  !)  was 
the  reply — the  usual  mode  in  Spain  of  refusing  a  beggar.  I 
turned  away,"  said  he,  "  with  shame  greater  than  my  hunger,  for 
my  heart  was  yet  too  proud.  I  came  to  a  river  with  high  banks, 
and  deep,  rapid  current,  and  felt  tempted  to  throw  myself  in : 
1  What  should  such  an  old,  worthless,  wretched  man  as  I  live  for  V 
But  when  I  was  on  the  ^  brink  of  the  current,  I  thought  on  the 
blessed  Virgin,  and  turned  away.  I  travelled  on  until  I  saw  a 
country-seat  at  a  little  distance  from  the  road,  and  entered  the 
outer  gate  of  the  court-yard.  The  door  was  shut,  but  there  were 
two  young  senoras  at  a  window.  I  approached  and  begged  •— 
Perdon  usted  por  Dios  hermano  /' — and  the  window  closed. 


THE   JOURNEY.  35 

crept  out  of  the  court-yard,  but  hunger  overcame  me,  and  my 
heart  gave  way :  I  thought  my  hour  at  hand,  so  I  laid  myself 
down  at  the  gate,  commended  myself  to  the  Holy  Virgin,  and 
covered  my  head  to  die.  In  a  little  while  afterwards  the  master 
of  the  house  came  home  :  seeing  me  lying  at  his  gate,  he  uncov- 
ered my  head,  had  pity  on  my  gray  hairs,  took  me  into  his  house, 
and  gave  me  food.  So,  senors,  you  see  that  one  should  always 
put  confidence  in  the  protection  of  the  Virgin." 

The  old  man  was  on  his  way  to  his  native  place,  Archidona, 
which  was  in  full  view  on  its  steep  and  rugged  mountain.  He 
pointed  to  the  ruins  of  its  castle :  "  That  castle,"  he  said,  "  was 
inhabited  by  a  Moorish  king  at  the  time  of  the  wars  of  Granada. 
Queen  Isabella  invaded  it  with  a  great  army ;  but  the  king  looked 
down  from  his  castle  among  the  clouds,  and  laughed  her  to  scorn  ! 
Upon  this  the  Virgin  appeared  to  the  queen,  and  guided  her  and 
her  army  up  a  mysterious  path  in  the  mountains,  which  had  never 
before  been  known.  When  the  Moor  saw  her  coming,  he  was 
astonished,  and  springing  with  his  horse  from  a  precipice,  was 
dashed  to  pieces  !  The  marks  of  his  horse's  hoofs,"  said  the  old 
man,  "  are  to  be  seen  in  'the  margin  of  the  rock  to  this  day. 
And  see,  senors,  yonder  is  the  road  by  which  the  queen  and  her 
army  mounted ;  you  see  it  like  a  ribbon  up  the  mountain's  side ; 
but  the  miracle  is,  that,  though  it  can  be  seen  at  a  distance,  when 
you  come  near  it  disappears  !" 

The  ideal  road  to  which  he  pointed  was  undoubtedly  a  sandy 
ravine  of  the  mountain,  which  looked  narrow  and  defined  at  a 
distance,  but  became  broad  and  indistinct  on  an  approach. 

As  the  old  man's  heart  warmed  with  wine  and  wassail,  he 
went  on  to  tell  us  a  story  of  the  buried  treasure  left  under  the 
castle  by  the  Moorish  king.  His  own  house  was  next  to  the 


36  THE   JOURNEY. 

foundations  of  the  castle.  The  curate  and  notary  dreamed  three 
times  of  the  treasure,  and  went  to  work  at  the  place  pointed  out 
in  their  dreams.  His  own  son-in-law  heard  the  sound  of  their 
pickaxes  and  spades  at  night.  What  they  found  nobody  knows ; 
they  became  suddenly  rich,  but  kept  their  own  secret.  Thus  the 
old  man  had  once  been  next  door  to  fortune,  but  was  doomed 
never  to  get  under  the  same  roof. 

I  have  remarked  that  the  stories  of  treasure  buried  by  the 
Moors,  so  popular  throughout  Spain,  are  most  current  among  the 
poorest  people.  Kind  nature  consoles  with  shadows  for  the  lack 
of  substantials.  The  thirsty  man  dreams  of  fountains  and  run- 
ning streams ;  the  hungry  man  of  banquets ;  and  the  poor  man 
of  heaps  of  hidden  gold:  nothing  certainly  is  more  opulent 
than  the  imagination  of  a  beggar. 

Our  afternoon's  ride  took  us  through  a  steep  and  rugged 
defile  of  the  mountains,  called  Puerto  del  Rey,  the  Pass  of  the 
King ;  being  one  of  the  great  passes  into  the  territories  of 
Granada,  and  the  one  by  which  king  Ferdinand  conducted  his 
army.  Towards  sunset  the  road,  winding  round  a  hill,  brought 
us  in  sight  of  the  famous  little  frontier  city  of  Loxa,  which 
repulsed  Ferdinand  from  its  walls.  Its  Arabic  name  implies 
guardian,  and  such  it  was  to  the  vega  of  Granada ;  being  one 
of  its  advanced  guards.  It  was  the  strong-hold  of  that  fiery 
veteran,  old  AH  Atar,  father-in-law  of  Boabdil ;  and  here  it  waa 
that  the  latter  collected  his  troops,  and  sallied  forth  on  that 
disastrous  foray  which  ended  in  the  death  of  the  old  alcayde  and 
his  own  captivity.  From  its  commanding  position  at  the  gate,  as 
it  were,  of  this  mountain  pass,  Loxa  has  not  unaptly  been  termed 
the  key  of  Granada.  It  is  wildly  picturesque ;  built  along  the 
face  of  an  arid  mountain.,  The  ruins  of  a  Moorish  alcazar  or 


THE   JOTJKNEY.  37 

citadel  crown  a  rocky  mound  which  rises  out  of  the  centre  of  the 
town.  The  river  Xenil  washes  its  base,  winding  among  rocks, 
and  groves,  and  gardens,  and  meadows,  and  crossed  by  a  Moorish 
bridge.  Above  the  city  all  is  savage  and  sterile,  below  is  the 
richest  vegetation  and  the  freshest  verdure.  A  similar  contrast 
is  presented  by  the  river ;  above  the  bridge  it  is  placid  and  grassy, 
reflecting  groves  and  gardens ;  below  it  is  rapid,  noisy  and  tumul- 
tuous. The  Sierra  Nevada,  the  royal  mountains  of  Granada, 
crowned  with  perpetual  snow,  form  the  distant  boundary  to  this 
varied  landscape  5  one  of  the  most  charac^ristic  of  romantic  Spain 
Alighting  at  the  entrance  of  the  city,  we  gave  our  horses  to 
Sancho  to  lead  them  to  the  inn,  while^we  strolled  about  to  enjoy 
the  singular  beauty  of  the  environs.  As  we  crossed  the  bridge 
to  a  fine  alameda,  or  public  walk,  the  bells  tolled  the  hour  of  ora- 
tion. At  the  sound  the  wayfarers,  whether  on  business  or  pleas- 
ure, paused,  took  off  their  hats,  crossed  themselves,  and  repeated 
their  evening  prayer ;  a  pious  custom  still  rigidly  observed  in 
retired  parts  of  Spain.  Altogether  it  was  a  solemn  and  beautiful 
evening  scene,  and  we  wandered  on  as  the  evening  gradually 
closed,  and  the  new  moon  began  to  glitter  between  the  high  elms 
of  the  alameda.  We  were  roused  from  this  quiet  state  of  enjoy- 
ment by  the  voice  of  our  trusty  squire  hailing  us  from  a  dis- 
tance. He  came  up  to  us,  out  of  breath.  "  Ah,  senores,"  cried 
he,  "  el  pobre  Sancho  no  es  nada  sin  Don  Quixote."  (Ah,  sefiors, 
poor  Sancho  is  nothing  without  Don  Quixote.)  He  had  been 
alarmed  at  our  not  coming  to  the  inn ;  Loxa  was  such  a  wild 
mountain  place,  full  of  contrabandistas,  enchanters  and  infiernos ; 
he  did  not  well  know  what  might  have  happened,  and  set  out  to 
seek  us,  inquiring  after  us  of  every  person  he  met,  until  he 
traced  us  across  the  bridge,  and,  to  his  great  joy,  caught  sight  of 
us  strolling  in  the  alameda.  n* 


38  THE   JOURNEY. 

The  inn  to  which  he  conducted  us  was  called  the  Corona,  or 
Crown,  and  we  found  it  quite  in  keeping  with  the  character  of 
the  place,  the  inhabitants  of  which  seem  still  to  retain  the  bold, 
fiery  spirit  of  the  olden  time.  The  hostess  was  a  young  and 
handsome  Andalusian  widow,  whose  trim  basquina  of  black  silk, 
fringed  with  bugles,  set  off  the  play  of  a  graceful  form  and  round 
pliant  limbs.  Her  step  was  firm  and  elastic  ;  her  dark  eye  wan 
full  of  fire,  and  the  coquetry  of  her  air,  and  varied  ornaments  of 
her  person,  showed  that  she  was  accustomed  to  be  admired. 

She  was  well  matched  by  a  brother,  nearly  about  her  own 
age ;  they  were  perfect  models  of  the  Andalusian  Majo  and  Maja. 
He  was  tall,  vigorous,  and  ^well-formed,  with  a  clear  olive  com- 
plexion, a  dark  beaming  eye,  and  curling  chesnut  whiskers  that 
met  under  his  chin.  He  was  gallantly  dressed  in  a  short  green 
velvet  jacket,  fitted  to  his  shape,  profusely  decorated  .with  silver 
buttons,  with  a  white  handkerchief  in  each  pocket.  He  had 
breeches  of  the  same,  with  rows  of  buttons  from  the  hips  to  the 
knees  ;  a  pink  silk  handkerchief  round  his  neck,  gathered  through 
a  ring,  on  the  bosom  of  a  neatly-plaited  shirt ;  a  sash  round  the 
waist  to  match;  bottinas,  or  spatterdashes,  of  the  finest  russet 
leather,  elegantly  worked,  and  open  at  the  calf  to  show  his  stock- 
ing ;  and  russet  shoes,  setting  off  a  well-shaped  foot. 

As  he  was  standing  at  the  door,  a  horseman  rode  up  and 
entered  into  low  and  earnest  conversation  with  him.  He  was 
dressed  in  a  similar  style,  and  almost  with  equal  finery ;  a  man 
about  thirty,  square-built,  with  strong  Roman  features,  handsome, 
though  slightly  pitted  with  the  small-pox ;  with  a  free,  bold,  and 
somewhat  daring  air.  His  powerful  black  horse  was  decorated 
with  tassels  and  fanciful  trappings,  and  a  couple  of  broad-mouthed 
blunderbusses  hung  behind  the  saddle.  He  had  the  air  of  ODC 


THE  JOUENEY.  39 

of  those  contrabandist's  I  have  seen  in  the  mountains  of  Honda, 
and  evidently  had  a  good  understanding  with  the  brother  of 
mine  hostess ;  nay,  if  I  mistake  not,  he  was  a  favored  admirer 
of  the  widow.  In  fact,  the  whole  inn  and  its  inmates  had  some 
thing  of  a  contrabandista  aspect,  and  a  blunderbuss  stood  in  a 
corner  beside  the  guitar.  The  horseman  I  have  mentioned 
passed  his  evening  in  the  posada,  and  sang  several  bold  mountain 
romances  with  great  spirit.  As  we  were  at  supper,  two  poor 
Asturians  put  in  in  distress,  begging  food  and  a  night's  lodging. 
They  had  been  waylaid  by  robbers  as  they  came  from  a  fair 
among  the  mountains,  robbed  of  a  horse,  which  carried  all  their 
stock  in  trade,  stripped  of  their  money,  and  most  of  their  apparel, 
beaten  for  having  offered  resistance,  and  left  almost  naked  in  the 
road.  My  companion,  with  a  prompt  generosity  natural  to  him, 
ordered  them  a  supper  and  a  bed,  and  gave  them  a  sum  of  money 
to  help  them  forward  towards  their  home. 

As  the  evening  advanced,  the  dramatis  persons  thickened. 
A  large  man,  about  sixty  years  of  age,  of  powerful  frame,  came 
strolling  in,  to  gossip  with  mine  hostess.  He  was  dressed  in  the 
ordinary  Andalusian  costume,  but  had  a  huge  sabre  tucked  under 
his  arm ;  wore  large  moustaches,  and  had  something  of  a  lofty 
swaggering  air.  Every  one  seemed  to  regard  him  with  great 
deference 

Our  man  Sancho  whispered  to  us  that  he  was  Don  Ven- 
tura Rodriguez,  the  hero  and  champion  of  Loxa,  famous  for 
his  prowess  and  the  strength  of  his  arm.  In  the  time  of  the 
French  invasion  he  surprised  six  troopers  who  were  asleep :  ho 
first  secured  their  horses,  then  attacked  them  with  his  sabre, 
killed  some,  and  took  the  rest  prisoners.  For  this  exploit  the 
king  allows  him  a  peseta  (the  fifth  of  a  duro,  or  dollar)  per  day, 
and  has  dignified  him  with  i\\e  title  of  Don. 


4:0  THE   JOUKNEY. 

I  was  amused  to  behold  his  swelling  language  and  demeanor 
He  was  evidently  a  thorough  Andalusian,  boastful  as  brave.  Ris 
sabre  was  always  in  his  hand  or  under  his  arm.  He  carries  it 
always  about  with  him  as  a  child  does  her  doll,  calls  it  his  Santa 
Teresa,  and  says,  "  When  I  draw  it,  the  earth  trembles  "  (tiembla 
la  tierra). 

I  sat  until  a  late  hour  listening  to  the  varied  themes  of  this 
motley  group,  who  mingled  together  with  the  unreserve  of  a 
Spanish  posada.  We  had  contrabandista  songs,  stories  of  rob- 
bers, guerilla  exploits,  and  Moorish  legends.  The  last  were  from 
our  handsome  landlady,  who  gave  a  poetical  account  of  the 
Infiernos,  or  infernal  regions  of  Loxa,  dark  caverns,  in  which 
subterranean  streams  and  waterfalls  make  a  mysterious  sound. 
The  common  people  say  that  there  are  money-coiners  shut  up 
there  from  the  time  of  the  Moors  ;  and  that  the  Moorish  kinga 
kept  their  treasures  in  those  caverns. 

I  retired  to  bed  with  my  imagination  excited  by  all  that  I 
had  seen  and  heard  in  this  old  warrior  city.  Scarce  had  I  fallen 
asleep  when  I  was  aroused  by  a  horrid  din  and  uproar,  that 
might  have  confounded  the  hero  of  La  Mancha  himself  whose  ex- 
perience of  Spanish  inns  was  a  continual  uproar.  It  seemed  for 
a  moment  as  if  the  Moors  were  once  more  breaking  into  tho. 
town ,  or  the  infiernos  of  which  mine  hostess  talked  had  broken 
loose.  I  sallied  forth  half  dressed  to  reconnoiter.  It  was  nothing 
more  nor  less  than  a  charivari  to  celebrate  the  nuptials  of  an  old 
man  with  a  buxom  damsel.  Wishing  him  joy  of  his  bride  and 
his  serenade,  I  returned  to  my  more  quiet  bed.  and  slept  soundly 
until  morning. 

While  dressing,  I  amused  myself  in  reconnoitering  the  popu« 
face  from  my  window.  There  were  groups  of  fine-looking  young 


THE   JOUKNEY.  41 

men  in  the  trim  fanciful  Andalusian  costume,  with  brown  cloaks, 
thrown  about  them  in  true  Spanish  style,  which  cannot  be  imitat- 
ed, and  little  round  majo  hats  stuck  on  with  a  peculiar  knowing 
air.  They  had  the  same  galliard  look  which  I  have  remarked 
among  the  dandy  mountaineers  of  Honda.  Indeed,  all  this  part 
of  Andalusia  abounds  with  such  game-looking  characters.  They 
loiter  about  the  towns  and  villages ;  seem  to  have  plenty  of  time 
and  plenty  of  money;  "horse  to  ride  and  weapon  to  wear." 
Great  gossips ;  great  smokers ;  apt  at  touching  the  guitar,  sing- 
ing couplets  to  their  maja  belles,  and  famous  dancers  of  the 
bolero.  Throughout  all  Spain  the  men,  however  poor,  have  a 
gentleman-like  abundance  of  leisure  ;  seeming  to  consider  it  the 
attribute  of  a  true  cavaliero  never  to  be  in  a  hurry ;  but  the 
Andalusians  are  gay  as  well  as  leisurely,  and  have  none  of  the 
squalid  accompaniments  of  idleness.  The  adventurous  contra- 
band trade  which  prevails  throughout  these  mountain  regions, 
and  along  the  maritime  borders  of  Andalusia,  is  doubtless  at  the 
bottom  of  this  galliard  character. 

In  contrast  to  the  costume  of  these  groups  was  that  of  two 
long-legged  Valencians  conducting  a  donkey,  laden  with  articles 
of  merchandise ;  their  musket  slung  crosswise  over  his  back 
ready  for  action.  They  wore  round  jackets  (jalecos),  wide  linen 
bragas  or  drawers  scarce  reaching  to  the  knees  and  looking  like 
kilts,  red  fajas  or  sashes  swathed  tightly  round  their  waists, 
sandals  of  espartal  or  bass  weed,  colored  kerchiefs  round  their 
heads  somewhat  in  the  style  of  turbans  but  leaving  the  top  of 
the  head  uncovered;  in  short,  their  whole  appearance  havin^ 
much  of  the  traditional  Moorish  stamp. 

On  leaving  Loxa  we  were  joined  by  a  cavalier,  well  mounted  and 
well  armed,  and  followed  on  foot  by  an  escopetero  or  musketeer. 


4:2  THE   JOUENEY. 

He  saluted  us  courteously,  and  soon  let  us  into  his  quality.  Ho 
was  chief  of  the  customs,  or  rather.  I  should  suppose,  chief  of  an 
armed  company  whose  business  it  is  to  patrol  the  roads  and  look 
out  for  contrabandistas.  The  escopetero  was  one  of  his  guards. 
In  the  course  of  our  morning's  ride  I  drew  from  him  some  parti- 
culars concerning  the  smugglers,  who  have  risen  to  be  a  kind  of 
mongrel  chivalry  in  Spain.  They  come  into  Andalusia,  he  said, 
from  various  parts,  but  especially  from  La  Mancha ;  sometimes^ 
to  receive  goods,  to  be  smuggled  on  an  appointed  night  across 
the  line  at  the  plaza  or  strand  of  Gibraltar  ;  sometimes  to  meet 
a  vessel,  which  is  to  hover  on  a  given  night  off  a  certain  part  of 
the  coast.  They  keep  together  and  travel  in  the  night.  In  the 
daytime  they  lie  quiet  in  barrancos,  gullies  of  the  mountains  or 
lonely  farm-houses ;  where  they  are  generally  well  received,  as 
they  make  the  family  liberal  presents  of  their  smuggled  wares; 
Indeed,  much  of  the  finery  and  trinkets  worn  by  the  wives  and 
daughters  of  the  mountain  hamlets  and  farm-houses  are  presents 
from  the  gay  and  open-handed  contrabandistas. 

Arrived  at  the  part  of  the  coast  where  a  vessel  is  to  meet 
them,  they  look  out  at  night  from  some  rocky  point  or  headland. 
If  they  descry  a  sail  near  the  shore  they  make  a  concerted 
signal ;  sometimes  it  consists  in  suddenly  displaying  a  lantern 
three  times  from  beneath  the  folds  of  a  cloak.  If  the  signal  is 
answered,  they  descend  to  the  shore  and  prepare  for  quick  work. 
The  vessel  runs  close  in ;  all  her  boats  are  busy  landing  the 
smuggled  goods,  made  up  into  snug  packages  for  transportation 
on  horseback.  These  are  hastily  thrown  on  the  beach,  as  hastily 
gathered  up  and  packed  on  the  horses,  and  then  the  contraban- 
distas clatter  off  to  the  mountains.  They  travel  by  the  roughest, 
wildest,  and  most  solitary  roads,  where  it  is  almost  fruitless  to 


THE   JOUKNEY.  43 

pursue  them.  The  custom-house  guards  do  not  attempt  it :  they 
take  a  different  course.  When  they  hear  of  one  of  these  hands 
returning  full  freighted  through  the  mountains,  they  go  out  in 
force,  sometimes  twelve  infantry  and  eight  horsemen,  and  take 
their  station  where  the  mountain  defile  opens  into  the  plain 
The  infantry,  who  lie  in  ambush  some  distance  within  the  defile, 
suffer  the  band  to  pass,  then  rise  and  fire  upon  them.  The  con- 
trabandistas  dash  forward,  but  are  met  in  front  by  the  horsemen. 
A  wild  skirmish  ensues.  The  contrabandistas,  if  hard  pressed, 
become  desperate.  Some  dismount,  use  their  horses  as  breast- 
works, and  fire  over  their  backs ;  others  cut  the  cords,  let  the 
packs  fall  off  to  delay  the  enemy,  and  endeavor  to  escape  with 
their  steeds.  Some  get  off  in  this  way  with  the  loss  of  their 
packages  ;  some  are  taken,  horses,  packages,  and  all ;  others 
abandon  every  thing,  and  make  their  escape  by  scrambling  up 
the  mountains.  "  And  then,"  cried  Sancho,  who  had  been  listen- 
ing with  a  greedy  ear,  '•  se  hacen  ladroms  legitimos" — and  then 
they  become  legitimate  robbers. 

I  could  not  help  laughing  at  Sancho's  idea  of  a  legitimate 
calling  of  the  kind;  but  the  chief  of  customs  told  me  it  was 
really  tne  case  that  the  smugglers,  when  thus  reduced  to  ex- 
tremity, thought  they  had  a  kind  of  right  to  take  the  road,  and 
lay  travellers  under  contribution,  until  they  had  collected  funds 
enough  to  mount  and  equip  themselves  in  contrabandista  style. 

Towards  noon  our  wayfaring  companion  took  leave  of  us  and 
turned  up  a  steep  defile,  followed  by  his  escopetero  ;  and  shortly 
afterwards  we  emerged  from  the  mountains,  and  entered  upon 
the  far  famed  Yega  of  Granada. 

Our  last  mid-day's  repast  was  taken  under  a  grove  of  olive* 
trees  on  the  border  of  a  rivulet.  We  were  in  a  classical  neigh 


4A  THE   JOURNEY. 

borhood :  for  not  far  off  were  the  groves  and  orchards  of  the 
Soto  de  Roma  This,  according  to  fabulous  tradition,  was  a  re- 
treat founded  by  Count  Julian  to  console  his  daughter  Florinda. 
It  was  a  rural  resort  of  the  Moorish  kings  of  Grranada ;  and  lias 
in  modern  times  been  granted  to  the  Duke  of  Wellington. 

Our  worthy  squire  made  a  half  melancholy  face  as  he  drew 
forth,  for  the  last  time,  the  contents  of  his  alforjas,  lamenting 
that  our  expedition  was  drawing  to  a  close,  for,  with  such 
cavaliers,  he  said,  he  could  travel  to  the  world's  end.  Our 
repast,  however,  was  a  gay  one ;  made  under  such  delightful 
auspices.  The  day  was  without  a  cloud.  The  heat  of  the  sun 
was  tempered  by  cool  breezes  from  the  mountains.  Before  us  ex- 
tended the  glorious  Vega.  In  the  distance  was  romantic  Granada 
surmounted  by  the  ruddy  towers  of  the  Alhambra,  while  far  above 
it  the  snowy  summits  of  the  Sierra  Nevada  shone  like  silver. 

Our  repast  finished,  wo  spread  our  cloaks  and  took  our  last 
siesta  alfresco,  lulled  by  the  humming  of  bees  among  the  flowers 
and  the  notes  of  doves  among  the  olive-trees.  When  the  sultry 
hours  were  passed  we  resumed  our  journey.  After  a  time  we 
overtook  a  pursy  little  man,  shaped  not  unlike  a  toad  and 
mounted  on  a  mule.  He  fell  into  conversation  with  Sanclio,  and 
finding  we  were  strangers,  undertook  to  guide  us  to  a  good 
posada.  He  was  an  escribano  (notary),  he  said,  and  knew  the 
city  as  thoroughly  as  his  own  pocket.  "  Ah  Dios  Sefiores  !  what 
a  city  you  are  going  to  see.  Such  streets  !  such  squares  !  such 
palaces  !  and  then  the  women — ah  Santa  Maria  purisima — what 
women  !"  "  But  the  posada  you  talk  of,"  said  I,  "  are  you  sure 
it  is  a  good  one  ?" 

"  Good  !  Santa  Maria  !  the  best  in  G-ranada.  Salones  grandes 
— eumas  de  luxo — colchones  de  pluma  (grand  saloons — luxurious 


THE   JOUKNEY.  45 

sleeping  rooms — beds  of  down).  Ah,  senoioe,  you  will  fare  like 
king  Chico  in  the  Alhambra." 

"And  how  will  nay  horses  fare?"  cried  Sancho. 

"  Like  king  Chico's  horses.  Chocolate  con  leclie  y  bollos  para 
cumuerza"  (chocolate  and  milk  with  sugar  cakes  for  breakfast), 
giving  the  squire  a  knowing  wink  and  a  leer. 

After  such  satisfactory  accounts  nothing  more  was  to  be 
desired  on  that  head.  So  we  rode  quietly  on,  the  squab  little 
notary  taking  the  lead,  and  turning  to  us  every  moment  with 
some  fresh  exclamation  about  the  grandeurs  of  Granada  and  the 
famous  times  we  were  to  have  at  the  posada. 

Thus  escorted,  we  passed  between  hedges  of  aloes  and  Indian 
figs,  and  through  that  wilderness  of  gardens  with  which  the  vega 
is  embroidered,  and  arrived  about  sunset  at  the  gates  of  the  city. 
Our  omcious  little  conductor  conveyed  us  up  one  street  and 
down  another,  until  he  rode  into  the  court-yard  of  an  inn  where 
he  appeared  to  be  perfectly  at  home.  Summoning  the  landlord 
by  his  Christian  name,  he  committed  us  to  his  care  as  two  caval- 
leros  de  mucho  valor,  worthy  of  his  best  apartments  and  most 
sumptuous  fare.  "VVe  were  instantly  reminded  of  the  patronizing 
stranger  who  introduced  Gil  Bias  with  such  a  nourish  of  trumpets 
to  the  host  and  hostess  of  the  inn  at  Pennaflor,  ordering  trouts 
for  his  supper,  and  eating  voraciously  at  his  expense.  "  You 
"  know  not  what  you  possess,"  cried  he  to  the  innkeeper  and  his 
wife.'  "You  have  a  treasure  in  your  house.  Behold  in  this 
young  gentleman  the  eighth  wonder  of  the  world — nothing  in 
this  house  is  too  good  for  Senor  Gil  Bias  of  Santillane.  who 
deserves  to  be  entertained  like  a  prince." 

Determined  that  the  little  notary  should  not  eat  trouts  at  our 
expense,  like  his  prototype  of  Pennaflor,  we  forbore  to  ask  him 


46  THE  JOUKNEY. 

to  supper ;  nor  had  we  reason  to  reproach  ourselves  with  ingrati- 
tude ;  for  we  found  before  morning  the  little  varlet,  who  was  no 
doubt  a  good  friend  of  the  landlord,  had  decoyed  us  into  one  of 
the  shabbiest  posadas  in  Granada. 


PALACE  OF  THE  ALHAMBBA. 


To  the  traveller  imbued  with  a  feeling  for  the  historical  and 
poetical,  so  inseparably  intertwined  in  the  annals  of  romantic 
Spain,  the  Alhambra  is  as  much  an  object  of  devotion  as  is  the 
Caaba  to  all  true  Moslems.  How  many  legends  and  traditions,  true 
and  fabulous  ;  how  many  songs  and  ballads,  Arabian  and  Spanish, 
of  love  and  war  and  chivalry,  are  associated  with  this  oriental 
pile  !  It  was  the  royal  abode  of  the  Moorish  kings,  where,  sur- 
rounded with  the  splendors  and  refinements  of  Asiatic  luxury, 
they  held  dominion  over  what  they  vaunted  as  a  terrestrial  para- 
dise, and  made  their  last  stand  for  empire  in  Spain.  The  royal 
palace  forms  but  a  part  of  a  fortress,  the  walls  of  which,  studded 
with  towers,  stretch  irregularly  round  the  whole  crest  of  a  hill, 
a  spur  of  the  Sierra  Nevada  or  Snowy  Mountains,  and  overlook 
the  city ;  externally  it  is  a  rude  congregation  of  towers  and  bat- 
tlements, with  no  regularity  of  plan  nor  grace  of  architecture, 
and  giving  little  promise  of  the  grace  and  beauty  which  prevail 
within. 

In  the  time  of  the  Moors  the  fortress  was  capable  of  containing 
within  in  its  outward  precincts  an  army  of  forty  thousand  men, 
and  served  occasionally  as  a  strong-hold  of  the  sovereigns  against 
ihcir  rebellious  subjects.  After  the  kingdom  had  passed  intc 


48  HISTORIC   FACTS. 

the  hands  of  the  Christians,  the  Alhambra  continued  to  be  a 
royal  demesne,  and  was  occasionally  inhabited  by  the  Castilian 
monarchs.  The  emperor  Charles  V.  commenced  a  sumptuous 
palace  within  its  walls,  but  was  deterred  from  completing  it 
by  repeated  shocks  of  earthquakes.  The  last  royal  residents 
were  Philip  V.  and  his  beautiful  queen,  Elizabetta-  of  Parma, 
early  in  the  eighteenth  century.  Great  preparations  were  made 
for  their  reception.  The  palace  and  gardens  were  placed  in  a 
state  of  repair,  and  a  new  suite  of  apartments  erected,  and  deco- 
rated by  artists  brought  from  Italy.  The  sojourn  of  the  sove- 
reigns was  transient,  and  after  their  departure  the  palace  once 
more  became  desolate.  Still  the  place  was  maintained  with  some 
military  state.  The  governor  held  it  immediately  from  the 
crown,  its  jurisdiction  extended  down  into  the  suburbs  of  the 
city,  and  was  independent  of  the  captain-general  of  Granada. 
A  considerable  garrison  was  kept  up,  the  governor  had  his  apart- 
ments in  the  front  of  the  old  Moorish  palace,  and  never  de- 
scended into  Granada  without  some  military  parade.  The  fortress, 
in  fact,  was  a  little  town  of  itself,  having  several  streets  of  houses 
within  its  walls,  together  with  a  Franciscan  convent  and  a  paro- 
chial church. 

The  desertion  of  the  court,  however,  was  a  fatal  blow  to  the 
Alhambra.  Its  beautiful  halls  became  desolate,  and  some  of 
them  fell  to  ruin ;  the  gardens  were  destroyed,  and  the  fountains 
ceased  to  play.  By  degrees  the  dwellings  became  filled  with  a 
loose  and  lawless  population  ;  contrabandistas,  who  availed  them- 
selves of  its  independent  jurisdiction  to  carry  on  a  wide  and 
daring  course  of  smuggling,  and  thieves  and  rogues  of  all  sorts, 
who  made  this  their  place  of  refuge  whence  they  might  depredate 
upon  Granada  and  its  vicinity.  The  strong  arm  of  government 


HISTORIC   FACTS.  49 

at  length  interfered ;  the  whole  community  was  thoroughly  sifted ; 
none  were  suffered  to  remain  but  such  as  were  of  honest  charac- 
ter, and  had  legitimate  right  to  a  residence  ;  the  greater  part  of 
the  houses  were  demolished  and  a  mere  hamlet  left,  with  the  pa- 
rochial church  and  the  Franciscan  convent.  During  the  recent 
troubles  in  Spain,  when  Granada  was  in  the  hands  of  the  French, 
the  Alhambra  was  garrisoned 'by  their  troops,  and  the  palace  was 
occasionally  inhabited  by  the  French  commander.  With  that 
enlightened  taste  which  has  ever  distinguished  the  French  nation 
in  their  conquests,  this  monument  of  Moorish  elegance  and 
grandeur  was  rescued  from  the  absolute  ruin  and  desolation  that 
were  overwhelming  it.  The  roofs  were  repaired,  the  saloons  and 
galleries  protected  from  the  weather,  the  gardens  cultivated,  the 
watercourses  Restored,  the  fountains  once  more  made  to  throw  up 
their  sparkling  showers ;  and  Spain  may  thank  her  invaders  for 
having  preserved  to  her  the  most  beautiful  and  interesting  of  her 
historical  monuments. 

On  the  departure  of  the  French  they  blew  up  several  towers 
of  the  outer  wall,  and  left  the  fortifications  scarcely  tenable. 
Since  that  time  the  military  importance  of  the  post  is  at  an  end. 
The  garrison  is  a  handful  of  invalid  soldiers,  whose  principal 
duty  is  to  guard  some  of  the  outer  towers,  which  serve  occasion- 
ally as  a  prison  of  state ;  and  the  governor,  abandoning  the  lofty 
hill  of  the  Alhambra,  resides  in  the  centre  of  Granada,  for  the 
more  convenient  dispatch  of  his  official  duties.  I  cannot  con- 
clude this  brief  notice  of  the  state  of  the  fortress  without  bear- 
ing testimony  to  the  honorable  exertions  of  its  present  command- 
er, Don  Francisco  de  Serna,  who  -is  tasking  all  the  limited 
resources  at  his  command  to  put  the  palace  in  a  state  of  repair, 
and  by  his  judicious  precautions,  has  for  some  time  arrested  its 
3 


50  MOORISH    STREETS. 

too  certain  decay.  Had  his  predecessors  discharged  the  duties 
of  their  station  with  equal  fidelity,  the  Alhambra  might  yet  have 
remained  in  almost  its  pristine  beauty:  were  government  to 
second  him  with  means  equal  to  his  zeal,  this  relic  of  it  might 
still  be  preserved  for  many  generations  to  adorn  the  land,  and 
attract  the  curious  and  enlightened  of  every  clime. 

Our  first  object  of  course,  on  the  morning  after  our  arrival,  was 
a  visit  to  this  time-honored  edifice  ;  it  has  been  so  often,  however, 
and  so  minutely  described  by  travellers,  that  I  shall  not  under- 
take to  give  a  comprehensive  and  elaborate  account  of  it,  but 
merely  occasional  sketches  of  parts  with  the  incidents  and  associ- 
ations connected  with  them. 

Leaving*  our  posada,  and  traversing  the  renowned  square  of 
the  Vivarrambla,  once  the  scene  of  Moorish  joifsts  and  tour- 
naments, now  a  crowded  market-place,  we  proceeded  along  the 
Zacatin,  the  main  street  of  what,  in  the  time  of  the  Moors, 
was  the  Great  Bazaar,  and  where  small  shops  and  narrow  alleys 
still  retain  the  oriental  character.  Crossing  an  open  place  in 
front  of  the  palace  of  the  captain-general,  we  ascended  a  confined 
and  winding  street,  the  name  of  which  reminded  us  of  the  chiv- 
alric  days  of  G-ranada.  It  is  called  the  Calle,  or  street  of  the 
Gomeres,  from  a  Moorish  family  famous  in  chronicle  and  song. 
This  street  led  up  to  the  Puerta  de  las  Granadas,  a  massive  gate- 
way of  Grecian  architecture,  built  by  Charles  V.,  forming  the 
entrance  to  the  domains  of  the  Alhambra. 

At  the  gate  were  two  or  three  ragged  superannuated  soldiers, 
dozing  on  a  stone  bench,  the  successors  of  the  Zegris  and  the 
Abencerrages ;  while-  a  tall,  meagre  varlet,  whose  rusty-brown 
cloak  was  evidently  intended  to  conceal  the  ragged  state  of  hia 
nether  garments,  was  lounging  in  the  sunshine  and  gossiping  with 


THE    SOX   OF    THE   ALHAMBRA.  51 

an  ancient  sentinel  on  duty.     He  joined  us  as  we  entered  the 
gate,  and  offered  his  services  to  show  us  the  fortress. 

I  have  a  traveller's  dislike  to  officious  ciceroni,  and  did  not 
altogether  like  the  garb  of  the  applicant. 

"  You  are  well  acquainted  with  the  place,  I  presume?" 

"  Ninguno  mas ;  pues  senor.  soy  hijo  de  la  Alhambra." — (No- 
body better ;  in  fact,  sir,  I  am  a  son  of  the  Alhambra  !) 

The  common  Spaniards  have  certainly  a  most  poetical  way  of 
expressing  themselves.  "  A  son  of  the  Alhambra !"  the  appella- 
tion caught  me  at  once ;  the  very  tattered  garb  of  my  new  ac- 
quaintance assumed  a  dignity  in  my  eyes.  It  was  emblematic  of 
the  fortunes  of  the  place,  and  befitted  the  progeny  of  a  ruin. 

I  put  some  fa.rther  questions  to  him,  and  found  that  his  title 
was  legitimate.  His  family  had  lived  in  the  fortress- from  genera- 
tion to  generation  ever  since  the  time  of  the  conquest.  His  name 
was  Mateo  Ximenes.  u  Then,  perhaps,"  said  I,  "  you  may  be  a 
descendant  from  the  great  Cardinal  Ximenes?" — "DiosSabe! 
God  knows,  Senor  !  It  may  be  so.  We  are  the  oldest  family  in 
the  Alhambra, —  Christianas  Viejos,  old  Christians,  without  any 
taint  of  Moor  or  Jew.  I  know  we  belong  to  some  great  family 
or  other,  but  I  forget  whom.  My  father  knows  all  about  it :  Le 
has  the  coat-of-arms  hanging  up  in  his  cottage,  up  in  the  fortiess." 
— There  is  not  any  Spaniard,  however  poor,  but  has  some  claim 
to  high  pedigree.  The  first  title  of  this  ragged  worthy,  however, 
had  completely  captivated  me,  so  I  gladly  accepted  the  service.1? 
of  the  "  son  of  the  Alhambra." 

We  now  found  ourselves  in  a  deep  narrow  ravine,  filled  wLh 
beautiful  groves,  with  a  steep  avenue,  and  various  footpaths  wind- 
ing through  it,  bordered  with  stone  seats,  and  ornamented  with 
fountains.  To  our  left,  we  beheld  the  towers  of  the  Alhambrs 


52  THE   GATE   OF   JUSTICE. 

beetling  above  us ;  to  our  right,  on  the  opposite  side  of  the  ravine, 
we  were  equally  dominated  by  rival  towers  on  a  rocky  eminence. 
These,  we  were  told,  were  the  Torres  Vermejos,  or  vermilion 
towers,  so  called  from  their  ruddy  hue.  No  one  knows  their 
origin.  They  are  of  a  date  much  anterior  to  the  Alhambra :  some 
suppose  them  to  have  been  built  by  the  Romans ;  others,  by  some 
wandering  colony  of  Phoenicians.  Ascending  the  steep  and  shady 
avenue,  we  arrived  at  the  foot  of  a  huge  square  Moorish  tower, 
forming  a  kind  of  barbican,  through  which  passed  the  main 
entrance  to  the  fortress.  Within  the  barbican  was  another  group 
of  veteran  invalids,  one  mounting  guard  at  the  portal,  while  the 
rest,  wrapped  in  their  tattered  cloaks,  slept  on  the  stone  benches. 
This  portal  is  called  the  Gate  of  Justice,  from  the  tribunal  held 
within  its  porch  during  the  Moslem  domination,  for  the  imme- 
diate trial  of  petty  causes :  a  custom  common  to  the  oriental 
nations,  and  occasionally  alluded  to  in  the  Sacred  Scriptures 
"  Judges  and  officers  shalt  thou  make  thee  in  all  thy  gates,  and 
they  shall  judge  the  people  with  just  judgment." 

The  great  vestibule,  or  porch  of  the  gate,  is  formed  by  an  im- 
mense Arabian  arch,  of  the  horseshoe  form,  which  springs  to  half 
the  height  of  the  tower.  On  the  keystone  of  this  arch  is  engraven 
a  gigantic  hand.  Within  the  vestibule,  on  the  keystone  of  the 
portal,  is  sculptured,  in  like  manner,  a  gigantic  key.  Those  who 
pretend  to  some  knowledge  of  Mohammedan  symbols,  affirm  that 
the  hand  is  the  emblem  of  doctrine ;  the  five  fingers  designating 
the  five  principal  commandments  of  the. creed  of  Islam,  fasting, 
pilgrimage,  alms-giving,  ablution,  and  war  againt  infidels.  The 
key.  say  they,  is  the  emblem  of  the  faith  or  of  power ;  the  key  of 
Daoud  or  David,  transmitted  to  the  prophet.  "  And  the  key  of 
the  house  of  David  will  I  lay  upon  his  shoulder ;  so  he  shall  open 


MOORISH   TALISMANS.  53 

and  none  shall  shut,  and  he  shall  shut  and  none  shall  open.' 
(Isaiah  xxii.  22.)  The  key  we  are  told  was  emblazoned  on  the 
standard  of  the  Moslems  in  opposition  to  the  Christian  emblem 
of  the  cross,  when  they  subdued  Spain  or  Andalusia.  It  betokened 
the  conquering  power  invested  in  the  prophet.  "  He  that  hath 
the  key  of  David,  he  that  openeth  and  no  man  shutteth ;  and 
shutteth  and  no  man  openeth.  (Rev.  iii.  7.) 

A'different  explanation  of  these  emblems,  however,  was  given 
by  the  legitimate  son  of  the  Alhambra,  and  one  more  in  unison 
with  the  notions  of  the  common  people,  who  attach  something  of 
mystery  and  magic  to  every  thing  Moorish,  and  have  all  kind  of 
superstitions  connected  with  this  old  Moslem  fortress.  Accord- 
ing to  Mateo,  it  was  a  tradition  handed  down  from  the  oldest  in- 
habitants, and  which  he  had  from  his  father  and  grandfather,  that 
the  hand  and  key  were  magical  devices  on  which  the  fate  of  the 
Alhambra  depended.  The  Moorish  king  who  built  it  was  a  great 
magician,  or,  as  some  believed,  had  sold  himself  to  the  devil,  and 
had  laid  the  whole  fortress  under  a  magic  spell.  By  this  means 
it  had  remained  standing  for  several  hundred  years,  in  defiance 
of  storms  and  earthquakes,  while  almost  all  other  buildings  of  the 
Moors  had  fallen  to  ruin,  and  disappeared.  This  spell,  the  tra- 
dition went  on  to  say,  would  last  until  the  hand  on  the  outer  arch 
should  reach  down  and  grasp  the  key,  when  the  whole  pile  would 
tumble  to  pieces,  and  all  the  treasures  buried  beneath  it  by  tho 
Moors  would  be  revealed. 

Notwithstanding  this  ominous  prediction,  we  ventured  to  pass 
through  the  spell-bound  gateway,  feeling  some  little  assurance 
against  magic  art  in  the  protection  of  the  Virgin,  a  statue  of 
whom  we  observed  above  jthe  portal 

After  passing  through  the  barbican,  we  ascended  a  narrow 


51  PLACE   OF  THE   CISTERNS. 

lane,  winding  between  walls,  and  came  on  an  open  esplanade 
within  the  fortress,  called  the  Plaza  de  los  Algibes,  or  Place  of 
the  Cisterns,  from  great  reservoirs  which  undermine  it,  cut  in  the 
living  rock  by  the  Moors  to  receive  the  water  brought  by  con- 
duits from  the  Darro,  for  the  supply  of  the  fortress.  Here,  also 
is  a  well  of  immense  depth,  furnishing  the  purest  and  coldest  o» 
water ;  another  monument  of  the  delicate  taste  of  the  Moors,  who 
were  indefatigable  in  their  exertions  to  obtain  that  element*  in  its 
crystal  purity. 

In  front  of  this  esplanade  is  the  splendid  pile  commenced  by 
Charles  V.,  and  intended,  it  is  said,  to  eclipse  the  residence  of 
the  Moorish  kings.  Much  of  the  oriental  edifice  intended  for 
the  winter  season  was  demolished  to  make  way  for  this  massive 
pile.  The  grand  entrance  was  blocked  up ;  so  that  the  present 
entrance  to  the  Moorish  palace  is  through  a  simple  and  almost 
humble  portal  in  a  corner.  With  all  the  massive  grandeur  and 
architectural  merit  of  the  palace  of  Charles  V.,  we  regarded  it 
as  an  arrogant  intruder,  and  passing  by  it  with  a  feeling  almost 
of  scorn,  rang  at  the  Moslem  portal. 

While  waiting  for  admittance,  our  self-imposed  cicerone,  Mateo 
Ximenes,  informed  us  that  the  royal  palace  was  intrusted  to  the 
care  of  a  worthy  old  maiden  dame  called  Dona  Antonia-Molina, 
but  who,  according  to  Spanish  custom,  went  by  the  more  neigh- 
borly appellation  of  Tia  Antonia  (Aunt  Antonia),  who  maintain- 
ed  the  Moorish  halls  and  gardens  in  order  and  showed  them  to 
strangers.  While  we  were  talking,  the  door  was  opened  by  a 
plump  little  black-eyed  Andalusian  damsel,  whom  Mateo  address- 
ed as  Dolores,  but  who  from  her  bright  looks  and  cheerful  dispo- 
sition evidently  merited  a  merrier  name.  Mateo  informed  me  in 
a  whisper  that  she  was  the  niece  of  Tia  Antonia,  and  I  found 


INTERIOR    OF    THE    PALACE.  55 

slie  was  the  good  fairy  who  was  to  conduct  us  through  the  en- 
chanted palace.  Under  her  guidance  we  crossed  the  threshold, 
and  were  at  once  transported,  as  if  by  magic  wand,  into  other 
times  and  an  oriental  realm,  and  were  treading  the  scenes  of 
Arabian  story.  Nothing  could  be  in  greater  contrast  than  the» 
unpromising  exterior  of  the  pile  with  the  scene  now  before  us. 
We  found  ourselves  in  a  vast  patio  or  court  one  hundred  and 
fifty  feet  in  length,  and  upwards  of  eighty  feet  in  breadth,  paved 
with  white  marble,  and  decorated  at  each  end  with  light  Moorish 
peristyles,  one  of  which  supported  an  elegant  gallery  of  fretted 
architecture.  Along  the  mouldings  of  the  cornices  and  on  vari- 
ous parts  of  the  walls  were  escutcheons  and  ciphers,  and  cufic 
and  Arabic  characters  in  high  relief,  repeating  the  pious  mottoes 
of  the  Moslem  monarchs,  the  builders  of  the  Alhambra,  or  ex- 
tolling their  grandeur  and  munificence.  Along  the  centre  of  the 
court  extended  an  immense  basin  or  tank  (estanque)  a  hundred 
and  twenty-four  feet  in  length,  twenty-seven  in  breadth,  and  five 
in  depth,  receiving  its  water  from  two  marble  vases.  Hence  it 
is  called  the  Court  of  the  Alberca  (from  al  Beerkah,  the  Arabic 
for  a  pond  or  tank).  Great  numbers  of  gold-fish  were  to  be  seen 
gleaming  through  the  waters  of  the  basin,  and  it  was  bordered 
by  hedges  of  roses. 

Passing  from  the  court  of  the  Alberca  under  a  Moorish  arch- 
way, we  entered  the  renowned  court  of  Lions.  No  part  of  the 
edifice  gives  a  more  complete  idea  of  its  original  beauty  than 
this,  for  none  has  suffered  so  little  from  the  ravages  of  time.  In 
the  centre  stands  the  fountain  famous  in  song  and  story.  The 
alabaster  basins  still  shed  their  diamond  drops ;  the  twelve  lions 
which  support  them,  and  give  the  court  its  name,  still  cast  forth 
crystal  streams  as  in  the  days  of  Boabdil.  The  lions,  however. 


56  INTERIOR    OF    THE    PALACE. 

are  unworthy  of  their  fame,  being  of  miserable  sculpture,  the 
work  probably  of  some  Christian  captive.  The  court  is  laid  out 
in  flower-beds,  instead  of  its  ancient  and  appropriate  pavement 
of  tiles  or  marble ;  the  alteration,  an  instance  of  bad  taste,  was 
made  by  the  French  when  in  possession  of  Granada.  Round  the 
f  mr  sides  of  the  court  are  light  Arabian  arcades  of  open  filigree 
work  supported  by  slender  pillars  of  -white  marble,  which  it  is 
supposed  were  originally  gilded.  The  architecture,  like  that  in 
most  parts  of  the  interior  of  the  palace,  is  characterized  by  ele- 
gance, rather  than  grandeur  ;  bespeaking  a  delicate  and  graceful 
taste,  and  a  disposition  to  indolent  enjoyment.  When  one  looks 
upon  the  fairy  traces  of  the  peristyles,  and  the  apparently  fragile 
fretwork  of  the  walls,  it  is  difficult  to  believe  that  so  much  has 
survived  the  wear  and  tear  of  centuries,  the  shocks  of  earth- 
quakes, the  violence  of  war,  and  the  quiet,  though  no  less  bane- 
ful, pilferings  of  the  tasteful  traveller :  it  is  almost  sufficient  to 
excuse  the  popular  tradition,  that  the  whole  is  protected  by  a 
magic  charm. 

On  one  side  of  the  court  a  rich  portal  opens  into  the  hall  of 
the  Abencerrages ;  so  called  from  the  gallant  cavaliers  of  that 
illustrious  line  who  were  here  perfidiously  massacred.  There  are 
some  who  doubt  the  whole  story,  but  our  humble  cicerone  Mateo 
pointed  out  the  very  wicket  of  the  portal  through  which  they 
were  introduced  one  by  one  into  the  court  of  Lions,  and  the 
white  marble  fountain  in  the  centre  of  the  hall  beside  which  they 
were  beheaded  He  showed  us  also  certain  broad  ruddy  stains 
on  the  pavement,  traces  of  their  blood,  which,  according  to  popu- 
lar belief,  can  never  be  effaced. 

Finding  we  listened  to  him  apparently  with  easy  faith,  he 
added,  that  there  was  often  heard  at  night,  in  the  court  of  Lions, 


MOORISH   PHANTOMS.  57 

a  low  confused  sound,  resembling  the  murmuring  of  a  multitude  ; 
and  now  and  then  a  faint  tinkling,  like  the  distant  clank  of 
chains.  These  sounds  were  made  by  the  spirits  of  the  murdered 
Abencerrages ;  who  nightly  haunt  the  scene  of  their  suffering 
and  invoke  the  vengeance  of  Heaven  on  their  destroyer. 

The  sounds  in  question  had  no  doubt  been  produced,  as  I 
had  afterwards  an  opportunity  of  ascertaining,  by  the  bubbling 
currents  and  tinkling  falls  of  water  conducted  under  the  pave- 
ment through  pipes  and  channels  to  supply  the  fountains  ;  but  I 
was  too  considerate  to  intimate  such  an  idea  to  the  humble  chro- 
nicler of  the  Alhambra. 

Encouraged  by  my  easy  credulity,  Mateo  gave  me  the  follow- 
ing as  an  undoubted  fact,  which  he  had  from  his  grandfather  : 

There  was  once  an  invalid  soldier,  who  had  charge  of  the 
Alhambra  to  show  it  to  strangers :  as  he  was  one  evening,  about 
twilight,  passing  through  the  court  of  Lions,  he  heard  footsteps 
on  the  hall  of  the  Abencerrages  ;  supposing  some  strangers  to 
be  lingering  there,  he  advanced  to  attend  upon  them,  when  to 
his  astonishment  he  beheld  four  Moors  richly  dressed,  with  gilded 
cuirasses  and  cimeters,  and  poniards  glittering  with  precious 
stones.  They  were  walking  to  and  fro,  with  solemn  pace ;  but 
paused  and  beckoned  to  him.  The  old  soldier,  however,  took  to 
flight,  and  could  never  afterwards  be  prevailed  upon  to  enter  the 
Alhambra.  Thus  it  is  that  men  sometimes  turn  their  backs  upon 
fortune ;  for  it  is  the  firm  opinion  of  Mateo,  that  the  Moors  in- 
tended to  reveal  the  place  where  their  treasures  lay  buried.  A 
successor  to  the  invalid  soldier  was  more  knowing  ;  he  came  to  the 
Alhambra  poor ;  but  at  the  end  of  a  year  went  off  to  Malaga, 
bought  houses,  set  up  a  carriage,  and  still  lives  there  one  of  the 
richest  as  well  as  oldest  men  of  the  place  ;  all  which,  Mateo 
3* 


58  HALL   OF   THE  TWO   SISTEKS. 

sagely  surmised,  was  in  consequence  of  his  finding  out  the  golden 
secret  of  these  phantom  Moors. 

I  now  perceived  I  had  made  an  invaluable  acquaintance  in 
this  son  of  the  Alhambra,  one  who  knew  all  the  apocryphal  his- 
tory of  the  place,  and  firmly  believed  in  it,  and  whose  memory 
was  stuffed  with  a  kind  of  knowledge  for  which  I  have  a  lurking 
fancy,  but  which  is  too  apt  to  be  considered  rubbish  by  less  in- 
dulgent philosophers.  I  determined  to  cultivate  the  acquaint- 
ance of  this  learned  Theban. 

Immediately  opposite  the  hall  of  the  Abencerrages  a  portal, 
richly  adorned,  leads  into  a  hall  of  less  tragical  associations.  It 
is  light  and  lofty,  exquisitely  graceful  in  its  architecture, 
paved  with  white  marble,  and  bears  the  suggestive  name  of  the 
Hall  of  the  Two  Sisters.  Some  destroy  the  romance  of  the 
name  by  attributing  it  to  two  enormous  slabs  of  alabaster  which 
lie  side  by  side,  and  form  a  great  part  of  the  pavement ;  an 
opinion  strongly  supported  by  Mateo  Ximenes.  Others  are  dis- 
posed to  give  the  name  a  more  poetical  significance,  as  the  vague 
memorial  of  Moorish  beauties  who  once  graced  this  hall,  which 
was  evidently  a  part  of  the  royal  harem.  This  opinion  I  was 
happy  to  find  entertained  by  our  little  bright-eyed  guide,  Dolores, 
who  pointed  to  a  balcony  over  an  inner  porch ;  which  gallery,  she 
had  been  told,  belonged  to  the  women's  apartment.  "  You  see, 
Benor,"  said  she,  "  it  is  all  grated  and  latticed,  like  the  gallery 
in  a  convent  chapel  where  the  nuns  hear  mass  ;  for  the  Moorish 
kings,"  added  she,  indignantly,  "  shut  up  their  wives  just  like 
nuns.r) 

The  latticed  "jalousies,"  in  fact,  still  remain,  whence  the 
dark-eyed  beauties  of  the  harem  might  gaze  unseen  upon  the 
zambras  and  other  dances  and  entertainments  of  the  hall  below. 


HALL   OF   THE   TWO    SISTERS.  59 

On  each  side  of  this  hall  are  recesses  or  alcoves  for  ottomans 
and  couches,  on  which  the  voluptuous  lords  of  the  Alhambra  in- 
dulged in  that  dreamy  repose  so  dear  to  the  Orientalists.  A 
cupola  or  lantern  admits  a  tempered  light  from  above  and  a  free 
circulation  of  air;  while  on  one  side  is  heard  the  refreshing 
sound  of  waters  from  the  fountain  of  the  lions,  and  on  the  other 
side  the  soft  plash  from  the  basin  in  the  garden  of  Lindaraxa. 

It  is  impossible  to  contemplate  this  scene  so  perfectly  Orien- 
tal without  feeling  the  early  associations  of  Arabian  romance, 
and  almost  expecting  to  see  the  white  arm  of  some  mysterious 
princess  beckoning  from  the  gallery,  or  some  dark  eye  sparkling 
through  the  lattice.  The  abode  of  beauty  is  here,  as  if  it  had 
been  inhabited  but  yesterday ;  but  where  are  the  two  sisters ; 
where  the  Zoraydas  and  Lindaraxas  ! 

An  abundant  supply  of  water,  brought  from  the  mountains 
by  old  Moorish  aqueducts,  circulates  throughout  the  palace,  sup- 
plying its  baths  and  fishpools,  sparkling  in  jets  within  its  halls, 
or  murmuring  in  channels  along  the  marble  pavements.  When 
it  has  paid  its  tribute  to  the  royal  pile,  and  visited  its  gardens 
and  parterres,  it  flows  down  the  long  avenue  leading  to  the  city, 
tinkling  in  rills,  gushing  in  fountains,  and  maintaining  a  perpet- 
ual verdure  in  those  groves  that  embower  and  beautify  the  whole 
hill  of  the  Alhambra. 

Those  only  who  have  sojourned  in  the  ardent  climates  of  the 
South,  can  appreciate  the  delights  of  an  abode,  combining  the 
breezy  coolness  of  the  mountain  with  the  freshness  and  verdure 
of  the  valley.  While  the  city  below  pants  with  the  noontide 
heat,  and  the  parched  Vega  trembles  to  the  eye}  the  delicate  airs 
from  the  Sierra  Nevada  play  through  these  lofty  halls,  bringing 
with  them  the  sweetness  of  the  surrounding  gardens.  "Every 


60  MORISCO   ARCHITECTURE. 

thing  invites  to  that  indolent  repose,  the  bliss  of  southern  climes ; 
and  while  the  half-shut  eye  looks  out  from  shaded  balconies  upon 
the  glittering  landscape,  the  ear  is  lulled  by  the  rustling  of 
groves,  and  the  murmur  of  running  streams. 

I  forbear  for  the  present,  however,  to  describe  the  other  de- 
lightful apartments  of  the  palace.  My  object  is  merely  to  give 
the  reader  a  general  introduction  into  an  abode  where,  if  so  dis- 
posed, he  may  linger  and  loiter  with  me  day  by  day  until  we 
gradually  become  familiar  with  all  its  localities. 


NOTE  ON  MORISCO  ARCHITECTURE. 

To  an  unpractised  eye  the  light  relievos  and  fanciful  arabesques  which 
cover  the  walls  of  the  Alhambra  appear  to  have  been  sculptured  by  the  hand, 
with  a  minute  and  patient  labor,  an  inexhaustible  variety  of  detail,  yet  a  ge- 
neral uniformity  and  harmony  of  design  truly  astonishing ;  and  this  may  espe- 
cially be  said  of  the  vaults  and  cupolas,  which  are  wrought  like  honey-combs,  or 
frostwork,  with  stalactites  and  pendants  which  confound  the  beholder  with  the 
seeming  intricacy  of  their  patterns.  The  astonishment  ceases,  however,  when  it  is 
discovered  that  this  is  all  stucco-work ;  plates  of  plaster  of  Paris,  cast  in 
moulds  and  skilfully  joined  so  as  to  form  patterns  of  every  size  and  form. 
This  mode  of  diapering  walls  with  arabesques  and  stuccoing  the  vaults 
with  grotto-work,  was  invented  in  Damascus ;  but  highly  improved  by  the 
Moprs  in  Morocco,  to  whom  Saracenic  architecture  owes  its  most  graceful  and 
fanciful  details.  The  process  by  which  all  this  fairy  tracery  was  produced 
was  ingeniously  simple.  The  wall  in  its  naked  state  was  divided  off  by  linos 
crossing  at  right  angles,  such  as  artists  use  in  copying  a  picture ;  over  these 
were  drawn  a  succession  of  intersecting  segments  of  circles.  By  the  aid  oi 
these  the  artists  could  work  with  celerity  and  certainty,  and  from  the  mere 
intersection  of  the  plain  and  curved  Hues  arose  the  interminable  variety  of 
patterns  and  the  general  uniformity  of  their  character.* 

*  See  Urquhart'a  Pillars  of  Hercules,  B.  iii.  C.  8. 


MOKISCO    ARCHITECTURE.  61 

Much  gilding  was  used  in  the  stucco-work,  especially  of  the  cupolas :  ana 
the  interstices  were  delicately  pencilled  with  brilliant  colors,  such  as  verrni- 
fion  and  lapis  lazuli,  laid  on  with  the  whites  of  eggs.  The  primitive  colors 
alone  were  used,  says  Ford,  by  the  Egyptians,  Greeks,  and  Arabs,  in  the  early 
period  of  art ;  and  they  prevail  in  the  Alhambra  whenever  the  artist  has  been 
Arabic  or  Moorish.  It  is  remarkable  how  much  of  then-  original  brilliancy 
emains  after  the  lapse  of  several  centuries. 

The  lower  part  of  the  walls  in  the  saloons,  to  the  height  of  several  feet, 
is  incrusted  with  glazed  tiles,  joined  like  the  plates  of  stucco-work,  sc  as  to 
form  various  patterns.  On  some  of  them  are  emblazoned  the  escutcheons  of 
the  Moslem  kings,  traversed  with  a  band  and  motto.  These  glazed  tiles  (azu- 
lejos  in  Spanish,  az-zulaj  in  Arabic)  are  of  Oriental  origin ;  their  coolness, 
cleanliness,  and  freedom  from  vermin,  render  them  admirably  fitted  in  sultry 
climates  for  paving  halls  and  fountains ;  incrusting  bathing  rooms  and  lining 
the  walls  of  chambers.  Ford  is  inclined  to  give  them  great  antiquity.  From 
their  prevailing  colors,  sapphire  and  blue,  he  deduces  that  they  may  have 
formed  the  kind  of  pavements  alluded  to  in  the  sacred  Scriptures — "  There 
was  under  his  feet  as  it  were  a  paved  work  of  a  sapphire  stone "  (Exod.  xxiv. 
10);  and  again,  "Behold  I  will  lay  thy  stones  with  fair  colors,  and  lay  thy 
foundations  with  sapphires"  (Isaiah  liv.  11). 

These  glazed  or  porcelain  tiles  were  introduced  into  Spain  at  an  early 
date  by  the  Moslems.  Some  are  to  be  seen  among  the  Moorish  ruins  which 
have  been  there  upwards  of  eight  centuries.  Manufactures  of  them  still  exist 
in  the  peninsula,  and  they  are  much  used  in  the  best  Spanish  houses,  especial- 
ly in  the  southern  provinces,  for  paving  and  lining  the  summer  apartments. 

The  Spaniards  introduced  them  into  the  Netherlands  when  they  had  pos- 
session of  that  country.  The  people  of  Holland  adopted  them  with  avidity, 
as  wonderfully  suited  to  their  passion  for  household  cleanliness ;  and  thus 
these  Oriental  inventions,  the  azulejos  of  the  Spanish,  the  az-zulaj  of  tho 
Arabs,  have  come  to  be  commonly  known  as  Dutch  tiles. 

3* 


IMPORTANT  NEGOTIATIONS-THE  AUTHOR  SUCCEEDS 
TO  THE  THRONE  OF  BOABDIL. 

THE  day  was  nearly  spent  before  we  could  tear  ourself  from  this 
region  of  poetry  and  romance  to  descend  to  the  city  and  return 
to  the  forlorn  realities  of  a  Spanish  posada.  In  a  visit  of  cere- 
mony to  the  Governor  of  the  Alhambra,  to  whom  we  had  brought 
letters,  we  dwelt  with  enthusiasm  on  the  scenes  we  had  witnessed, 
and  could  not  but  express  surprise  that  he  should  reside  in  the 
city  when  he  had  such  a  paradise  at  his  command.  He  pleaded 
the  inconvenience  of  a  residence  in  the  palace  from  its  situation 
on  the  crest  of  a  hill,  distant  from  the  seat  of  business  and  the 
resorts  of  social  intercourse.  It  did  very  well  for  monarchs, 
who  often  had  need  of  castle  walls  to  defend  them  from  their 
own  subjects.  "  But  senors,"  added  he,  smiling,  "  if  you  think  a 
residence  there  so  desirable,  my  apartments  in  the  Alhambra  are 
at  your  service." 

It  is  a  common  and  almost  indispensable  point  of  politeness 
in  a  Spaniard,  to  tell  you  his  house  is  yours. — "  Esta  casa  es 
siempre  a  la  disposicion  de  Vm."  "  This  house  is  always  at  the 
command  of  your  Grace."  In  fact,  any  thing  of  his  which  you 
admire,  is  immediately  offered  to  you.  It  is  equally  a  mark  of 
good  breeding  in  you  not  to  accept  it ;  so  we  merely  bowed  our 


THE   LOAN    OF    A   PALACE.  63 

Acknowledgments  of  the  courtesy  of  the  Governor  in  offering  us 
a  royal  palace.  We  were  mistaken,  however.  The  Governor 
was  in  earnest.  "  You  will  find  a  rambling  set  of  empty,  un- 
itirnished  rooms,"  said  he  ;  "but  Tia  Antonia,  who  has  charge  of 
•he  palace,  may  be  able  to  put  them  in  some  kind  of  order  ;  and 
to  take  care  of  you  while  you  are  there.  If  you  can  make  any 
arrangement  with  her  for  your  accommodation,  and  are  content 
with  scanty  fare  in  a  royal  abode,  the  palace  of  King  Chico  is  at 
your  service," 

We  took  the  Governor  at  his  word,  and  hastened  up  the  steep 
Calle  de  los  Gomeres,  and  through  the  Great  Gate  of  Justice,  to 
negotiate  with  Dame  Antonia ;  doubting  at  times  if  this  were 
not  a  dream,  and  fearing  at  times  that  the  sage  Duena  of  the 
fortress  might  be  slow  to  capitulate.  We  knew  we  had  one 
friend  at  least  in  the  garrison,  who  would  be  in  our  favor,  the 
bright-eyed  little  Dolores,  whose  good  graces  we  had  propitiated 
on  our  first  visit ;  and  who  hailed  our  return  to  the  palace  with 
her  brightest  looks. 

All,  however,  went  smoothly.  The  good  Tia  Antonia  had  a 
little  furniture  to  put  in  the  rooms,  but  it  was  of  the  commonest 
kind.  We  assured  her  we  could  bivouac  on  the  floor.  She  could 
supply  our  table  ;  but  only  in  her  own  simple  way — we  wanted 
nothing  better.  Her  niece,  Dolores,  would  wait  upon  us — and  at 
the  word  we  threw  up  our  hats  and  the  bargain  was  complete. 

The  very  next  day  we  took  up  our  abode  in  the  palace,  and 
never  did  sovereigns  share  a  divided  throne  with  more  perfect 
harmony.  Several  days  passed  by  like  a  dream,  when  my  worthy 
associate,  being  summoned  to  Madrid  on  diplomatic  duties,  was 
compelled  to  abdicate,  leaving  me  sole  monarch  of  this  shadowy 
realm.  For  myself,  being  in  a  manner  a  hap-hazard  loiterer 


64  DOMESTIC   ARRANGEMENTS. 

about  the  world  and  prone  to  linger  in  its  pleasant  places,  here 
have  I  been  suffering  day  by  day  to  steal  away  unheeded,  spell- 
bound, for  aught  I  know,  in  this  old  enchanted  pile.  Having 
always  a  companionable  feeling  for  my  reader,  and  being  prone 
to  live  with  him  on  confidential  terms,  I  shall  make  it  a  point  to 
communicate  to  him  my  reveries  and  researches  during  this  state 
of  delicious  thraldom.  If  they  have  the  power  of  imparting  to 
his  imagination  any  of  the  witching  charms  of  the  place,  he  will 
not  repine  at  lingering  with  me  for  a  season  in  the  legendary 
halls  of  the  Alhambra. 

And  first  it  is  proper  to  give  him  some  idea  of  my  domestic 
arrangements  ;  they  are  rather  of  a  simple  kind  for  the  occupant 
of  a  regal  palace ;  but-  I  trust  they  will  be  less  liable  to  disas- 
trous reverses  than  those  of  my  royal  predecessors. 

My  quarters  are  at  one  end  of  the  Governor's  apartment,  a 
suite  of  empty  chambers,  in  front  of  the  palace,  looking  out 
upon  the  great  esplanade  called  la  plaza  de  los  algibes  (the  place 
of  the  cisterns) ;  the  apartment  is  modern,  but  the  end  opposite 
to  my  sleeping-room  communicates  with  a  cluster  of  little  cham- 
bers, partly  Moorish,  partly  Spanish,  allotted  to  the  chdtelain. 
Dona  Antonia  and  her  family.  In  consideration  of  keeping  tht 
palace  in  order,  the  good  dame  is  allowed  all  the  perquisites  ro 
ceived  from  visitors,  and  all  the  produce  of  the  gardens ;  except 
ing  that  she  is  expected  to  pay  an  occasional  tribute  of  fruits  and 
flowers  to  the  Governor.  Her  family  consists  of  a  nephew  and 
niece,  the  children  of  two  different  brothers.  The  nephew,  Ma- 
nuel Molina,  is  a  young  man  of  sterling  worth  and  Spanish  gra- 
vity. He  had  served  in  the  army,  both  in  Spain  and  the  West 
Indies  ;  but  is  now  studying  medicine  in'  the  hope  of  one  day  or 
other  becoming  physician  to  the  fortress,  a  post  worth  at  least 


THE    BKIGHT-EYED    DOLOKES.  65 

one  hundred  and  forty  dollars  a  year.  The  niece  is  the  plump 
little  black-eyed  Dolores  already  mentioned  ;  and  who,  it  is  said, 
will  one  day  inherit  all  her  aunt's  possessions,  consisting  of  cer- 
tain petty  tenements  in  the  fortress,  in  a  somewhat  ruinous  con- 
dition it  is  true,  but  which,  I  am  privately  assured  by  Mateo 
Xhnenes,  yield  a  revenue  of  nearly  one  hundred  and  fifty  dollars ; 
so  that  she  is  quite  an  heiress  in  the  eyes  of  the  ragged  son  of 
the  Alhambra.  I  am  also  informed  by  the  same  observant  and 
authentic  personage,  that  a  quiet  courtship  is  going  on  between 
the  discreet  Hanuel  and  his  bright-eyed  cousin,  and  that  nothing 
is  wanting  to  enable  them  to  join  their  hands  and  expectations 
but  his  doctor's  diploma,  and  a  dispensation  from  the  Pope  on 
account  of  their  consanguinity. 

The  good  dame  Antonia  fulfils  faithfully  her  contract  in  re- 
gard to  my  board  and  lodging  ;  and  as  I  am  easily  pleased,  I  find 
my  fare  excellent ;  while  the  merry-hearted  little  Dolores  keeps 
my  apartment  in  order,  and  officiates  as  handmaid  at  meal-times. 
I  have  also  at  my  command  a  tall,  stuttering,  yellow-haired  lad, 
named  Pepe,  who  works  in  the  gardens,  and  would  fain  have 
acted  as  valet ;  but,  in  this,  he  was  forestalled  by  Mateo  Ximenes, 
"  the  son  of  the  Alhambra."  This  alert  and  officious  wight  has 
managed,  somehow  or  other,  to  stick  by  me  ever  since  I  first  en- 
countered him  at  the  outer  gate  of  the  fortress,  and  to  weave 
himself  into  all  my  plans,  until  he  has  fairly  appointed  and  in- 
stalled himself  my  valet,  cicerone,  guide,  guard,  and  historiogra- 
phic  squire  ;  and  I  have  been  obliged  to  improve  the  state  of  his 
wardrobe,  that  he  may  not  disgrace  his  various  functions ;  so  that 
he  has  cast  his  old  brown  mantle,  as  a  snake  does  his  skin,  and 
now  appears  about  the  fortress  with  a  smart  Andalusian  hat  and 
jacket,  to  his  infinite  satisfaction,  and  the  great  astonishment  of 


66  MATEO    XIMENES. 

his  comrades.  The  chief  fault  of  honest  Mateo  is  an  over  anxiety 
to  be  useful.  Conscious  of  having  foisted  himself  into  my  em- 
ploy, and  that  my  simple  and  quiet  habits  render  his  situation  a 
binecure,  he  is  at  his  wit's  ends  to  devise  modes  of  making  him- 
self important  to  my  welfare.  I  am,  in  a  manner,  the  victim  of 
his  officiousness ;  I  cannot  put  my  foot  over  the  threshold  of  the 
palace,  to  stroll  about  the  fortress,  but  he  is  at  my  elbow,  to  ex- 
plain every  thing  I  see  ;  and  if  I  venture  to  ramble  among  the 
surrounding  hills,  he  insists  upon  attending  me  as  a  guard,  though 
I  vehemently  suspect  he  would  be  more  apt  to  trust  to  the  length 
of  his  legs  than  the  strength  of  his  arms,  in  case  of  attack.  After 
all,  however,  the  poor  fellow  is  at  times  an  amusing  companion  ; 
he  is  simple-minded,  and  of  infinite  good  humor,  with  the  loqua- 
city and  gossip  of  a  village  barber,  and  knows  all  the  small-talk 
of  the  place  and  its  environs  ;  but  what  he  chiefly  values  himself 
on,  is  his  stock  of  local  information,  having  the  most  marvellous 
stories  to  relate  of  every  tower,  and  vault,  and  gateway  of  the 
fortress,  in  all  of  which  he  places  the  most  implicit  faith. 

Most  of  these  he  has  derived,  according  to  his  own  account, 
from  his  grandfather,  a  little  legendary  tailor,  who  lived  to  the 
age  of  nearly  a  hundred  years,  during  which  he  made  but  two 
migrations  beyond  the  precincts  of  the  fortress.  His  shop,  for 
the  greater  part  of  a  century,  was  the  resort  of  a  knot  of  vener* 
able  gossips,  where  they  would  pass  half  the  night  talking  about 
old  times,  and  the  wonderful  events  and  hidden  secrets  of  the 
place.  The  whole  living,  moving,  thinking,  and  acting,  of  this 
historical  little  tailor,  had  thus  been  bounded  by  the  walls-  of  the 
Alhambra ;  within  them  he  had  been  born,  within  them  he  lived, 
breathed,  and  had  his  being ;  within  them  he  died,  and  was  bu- 
ried. Fortunately  for  posterity,  his  traditionary  lore  died  not 


KEGAL   REPASTS.  67 

with  him.  The  authentic  Mateo,  when  an  urchin,  used  to  be  an 
attentive  listener  to  the  narratives  of  his  grandfather,  and  of  the 
gossip  group  assembled  round  the  shopboard  ;  and  is  thus  pos- 
sessed of  a  stock  of  valuable  knowledge  concerning  the  Alhambra, 
not  to  be  found  in  books,  and  well  worthy  the  attention  of  every 
curious  traveller. 

Such  are  the  personages  that  constitute  my  regal  household  : 
and  I  question  whether  any  of  the  potentates,  Moslem  or  Chris- 
tian, who  have  preceded  me  in  the  palace,  have  been  waited  upon 
with  greater  fidelity,  or  enjoyed  a  serener  sway. 

When  I  rise  in  the  morning,  Pepe,  the  stuttering  lad  from 
the  gardens,  brings  me  a  tribute  of  fresh  culled  flowers,  which  are 
afterwards  arranged  in  vases,  by  the  skilful  hand  of  Dolores,  who 
takes  a  female  pride  in  the  decorations  of  my  chamber.  My 
meals  are  made  wherever  caprice  dictates  j  sometimes  in  one  of 
the  Moorish  halls,  sometimes  under  the  arcades  of  the  court  of 
Lions,  surrounded  by  flowers  and  fountains :  and  when  I  walk 
out,  I  am  conducted  by  the  assiduous  Mateo,  to  the  most  roman- 
tic retreats  of  the  mountains,  and  delicious  haunts  of  the  adjacent 
valleys,  not  one  of  which  but  is  the  scene  of  some  wonderful 
tale. 

Though  fond  of  passing  the  greater  part  of  my  day  alone, 
yet  I  occasionally  repair  in  the  evenings  to  the  little  domestic 
circle  of  Dona  Antonia.  This  is  generally  held  in  an  old  Moor- 
ish chamber,  which  serves  the  good  dame  for  parlor,  kitchen  and 
hall  of  audience,  and  which  must  have  boasted  of  some  splendor 
in  the  time  of  the  Moors,  if  we  may  judge  from  the  traces  yet 
remaining  ;  but  a  rude  fireplace  has  been  made  in  modern  times 
in  one  corner,  the  smoke  from  which  has  discolored  the  walls,  and 
almost  obliterated  the  ancient  arabesques.  A  window,  with  a  bal 


68  THE   LEVEE   OF   TIA    ANTONIA. 

cony  overhanging  the  valley  of  the  Darro,  lets  in  the  cool  even- 
ing breeze  ;  and  here  I  take  my  frugal  supper  of  fruit  and  milk, 
and  mingle  with  the  conversation  of  the  family.  There  is  a 
natural  talent  or  mother  wit,  as  it  is  called,  about  the  Spaniards, 
which  renders  them  intellectual  and  agreeable  companions,  what- 
ever may  be  their  condition  in  life,  or  however  imperfect  may 
have  been  their  education  :  add  to  this,  they  are  never  vulgar  , 
nature  has  endowed  them  with  an  inherent  dignity  of  spirit 
The  good  Tia  Antonia  is  a  woman  of  strong  and  intelligent, 
though  uncultivated  mind  ;  and  the  bright-eyed  Dolores,  though 
she  has  read  but  three  or  four  books  in  the  whole  course  of  her 
life,  has  an  engaging  mixture  of  naivete  and  good  sense,  and 
often  surprises  me  by  the  pungency  of  her  artless  sallies.  Some- 
times the  nephew  entertains  us  by  reading  some  old  comedy  of 
Calderon  or  Lope  de  Vega,  to  which  he  is  evidently  prompted 
by  a  desire  to  improve,  as  well  as  amuse  his  cousin  Dolores  ; 
though,  to  his  great  mortification,  the  little  damsel  generally  falls 
asleep  before  the  first  act  is  completed.  Sometimes  Tia  Antonia 
has  a  little  levee  of  humble  friends  and  dependents,  the  inhabit- 
ants of  the  adjacent  hamlet,  or  the  wives  of  the  invalid  soldiers. 
These  look  up. to  her  with  great  deference,  as  the  custodian  of 
the  palace,  and  pay  their  court  to  her  by  bringing  the  news  of  the 
place,  or  the  rumors  that  may  have  straggled  up  from  Granada. 
In  listening  to  these  evening  gossipings  I  have  picked  up  many 
curious  facts,  illustrative  of  the  manners  of  the  people  and  the 
peculiarities  of  the  neighborhood. 

These  are  simple  details  of  simple  pleasures  ;  it  is  the  nature 
of  the  place  alone  that  gives  them  interest  and  importance.  I 
tread  haunted  ground,  and  am  surrounded  by  romantic  associa- 
tions. From  earliest  boyhood,  when,  on  the  banks  of  the  Hud- 


69 

son,  I  first  pored  over  the  pages  of  old  Gines  Perez  de  Hytas's 
apocryphal  but  chivalresque  history  of  the  civil  wars  of  Granada, 
and  the  feuds  of  its  gallant  cavaliers,  the  Zegries  and  Aben- 
cerrages,  that  city  has  ever  been  a  subject  of  my  waking 
dreams ;  and  often  have  I  trod  in  fancy  the  romantic  halls  of  the 
Alhambra.  Behold  for  once  a  day-dream  realized ;  yet  I  can 
scarce  credit  my  senses,  or  believe  that  I  do  indeed  inhabit  the 
palace  of  Boabdil,  and  look  down  from  its  balconies  upon  chival- 
ric  Granada.  As  I  loiter  through  these  Oriental  chambers,  and 
hear  the  murmur  of  fountains  and  the  song  of  the  nightingale  ; 
as  I  inhale  the  odor  of  the  rose,  and  feel  the  influence  of  the 
balmy  climate,  I  am  almost  tempted  to  fancy  myself  in  the  para- 
dise of  Mahomet,  and  that  the  plump  little  Dolores  is  one  of  the 
bright-eyed  houris,  destined  to  administer  to  the  happiness  of  true 
believers. 


INHABITANTS  OF  THE  ALHAMBRA. 

I  HAVE  often  observed  that  the  more  proudly  a  mansion  has 
been  tenanted  in  the  day  of  its  prosperity,  the  humbler  are  its 
inhabitants  in  the  day  of  its  decline,  and  that  the  palace  of  a 
king  commonly  ends  in  being  the  nestjing-place  of  the  beggar. 

The  Alhambra  .is  in  a  rapid  state  of  similar  transition. 
Whenever  a  tower  falls  to  decay,  it  is  seized  upon  by  some  tatter- 
demalion family,  who  become  joint-tenants,  with  the  bats  and 
owls,  of  its  gilded  halls  ;  and  hang  their  rags,  those  standards  of 
poverty,  out  of  its  windows  and  loopholes. 

I  have  amused  myself  with  remarking  some  of  the  motley 
characters  that  have  thus  usurped  the  ancient  abode  of  royalty, 
and  who  seem  as  if  placed  here  to  give  a  farcical  termination  to 
the  drama  of  human  pride  One  of  these  even  bears  the  mockery 
of  a  regal  title.  It  is  a  little  old  woman  named  Maria  Antonia  Sa- 
bonea,  but  who  goes  by  the  appellation  of  la  Reyna  Coquina, 
or  the  Cockle-queen.  She  is  small  enough  to  be  a  fairy,  and  a 
fairy  she  may  be  for  aught  I  can  find  out,  for  no  one  seems  to 
know  her  origin.  Her  habitation  is  in  a  kind  of  closet  under  the 
outer  staircase  of  the  palace,  and  she  sits  in  the  cool  stone  corri- 
dor, plying  her  needle  and  singing  from  morning  till  night,  with 
a  ready  joke  for  every  one  that  passes  ;  for  though  one  of  the 


THE   COCKLE   QUEEN.  71 

poorest,  she  is  one  of  the  merriest  little  women  breathing.  Her 
great  merit  is  a  gift  for  story-telling,  having,  I  verily  believe,  as 
many  stories  at  her  command,  as  the  inexhaustible  Scheherezade 
of  the  thousand  and  one  nights.  Some  of  these  I  have  heard 
her  relate  in  the  evening  tertulias  of  Dame  Antonia,  at  which 
Bhe  is  occasionally  a  humble  attendant. 

That  there  must  be  some  fairy  gift  about  this  mysterious 
little  old  woman,  would  appear  from  her  extraordinary  luck, 
since,  notwithstanding  her  being  very  little,  very  ugly,  and  very 
poor,  she  has  had,  according  to  her  own  account,  five  husbands 
and  a  half,  reckoning  as  a  half  one  a  young  dragoon,  who  died 
during  courtship.  A  rival  personage  to  this  little  fairy  queen  is 
a  portly  old  fellow  with  a  bottle-nose,  who  goes  about  in  a  rusty 
garb  with  a  cocked  hat  of  oil-skin  and  a  red  cockade.  He  is  one 
of  the  legitimate  sons  of  the  Alhambra,  and  has  lived  here  all  his 
life,  filling  various  offices,  such  as  deputy  alguazil,  sexton  of  the 
parochial  church,  and  marker  of  a  fives-court  established  at  the 
foot  of  one  of  the  towers.  He  is  as  poor  as  a  rat,  but  as  proud 
as  he  is  ragged,  boasting  of  his  descent  from  the  illustrious 
house  of  Aguilar,  from  which  sprang  Gonzalvo  of  Cordova,  the 
grand  captain.  Nay,  he  actually  bears  the  name  of  Alonzo  de 
Aguilar,  so  renowned  in  the  history  of  the  conquest ;  though 
the  graceless  wags  of  the  fortress  have  given  him  the  title  of  el 
padre  santo,  or  the  holy  father,  the  usual  appellation  of  the  Pope, 
which  I  had  thought  too  sacred  in  the  eyes  of  true  Catholics  to 
be  thus  ludicrously  applied.  It  is  a  whimsical  caprice  of  fortune 
to  present,  in  the  grotesque  person  of  this  tatterdemalion,  a 
namesake  and  descendant  of  the  proud  Alonzo  de  Aguilar,  the 
mirror  of  Andalusian  chivalry,  leading  an  almost  mendicant 
existence  about  this  once  haughty  fortress,  which  his  ancestor 


Y2  THE   FAMILY   OF   MATEO. 

aided  to  reduce ;  yet,  such  might  have  been  the  lot  of  the 
descendants  of  Agamemnon  and  Achilles,  had  they  lingered 
about  the  ruins  of  Troy  ! 

Of  this  motley  community,  I  find  the  family  of  my  gossiping 
squire,  Mateo  Ximenjes,  to  form,  from  their  numbers  at  least,  a 
very  important  part.  His  boast  of  being  a  son  of  the  Alhambra, 
is  not  unfounded.  His  family  has  inhabited  the  fortress  ever 
since  the  time  of  the  conquest,  handing  down  an  hereditary 
poverty  from  father  to  son ;  not  one  of  them  having  ever  been 
known  to  be  worth  a  maravedi.  His  father,  by  trade  a  ribbon- 
weaver,  and  who  succeeded  the  historical  tailor  as  the  head  of 
the  family,  is  now  near  seventy  years  of  age,  and  lives  in  a  hovel 
of  reeds  and  plaster,  built  by  his  own  hands,  just  above  the  iron 
gate.  The  furniture  consists  of  a  crazy  bed,  a  table,  and  two  or 
three  chairs  ;  a  wooden  chest,  containing,  besides  his  scanty 
clothing,  the  "  archives  of  the  family."  These  are  nothing  more 
nor  less  than  the  papers  of  various  lawsuits  sustained  by 
different  generations ;  by  which  it  would  seem  that,  with  all  their 
apparent  carelessness  and  good  humor,  they  are  a  litigious  brood. 
Most  of  the  suits  have  been  brought  against  gossiping  neigh- 
bors for  questioning  the  purity  of  their  blood,  and  denying  their 
being  Christianas  viefos,  i.  e.  old  Christians,  without  Jewish  or 
Moorish  taint.  In  fact,  I  doubt  whether  this  jealousy  about 
their  blood  has  not  kept  them  so  poor  in  purse :  spending  all 
their  earnings  on  escribanos  and  alguazils.  The  pride  of  the 
hovel  is  an  escutcheon  suspended  against  the  wall,  in  which  aro 
emblazoned  quarterings  of  the  arms  of  the  Marquis  of  Caiesedo, 
and  of  various  other  noble  houses,  with  which  this  poverty- 
stricken  brood  claim  affinity. 

As  to  Mateo  himself,  who  is  now  about  thirty-five  years  of  age. 


THE   AKT   OF   BEING   IDLE.  73 

he  has  done  his  utmost  to  perpetuate  his  line  and  continue  the 
poverty  of  the  family,  having  a  wife  and  a  numerous  progeny, 
who  inhabit  an  almost  dismantled  hovel  in  the  hamlet.  How 
ihey  manage  to  subsist,  he  only  who  sees  into  all  mysteries 
can  tell ;  the  subsistence  of  a  Spanish  family  of  the  kind,  is 
always  a  riddle  to  me ;  yet  they  do  subsist,  and  what  is  more, 
appear  to  enjoy  their  existence.  The  wife  takes  her  holiday 
stroll  on  the  Paseo  of  Granada,  with  a  child  in  her  arms  and  half 
a  dozen  at  her  heels ;  and  the  eldest  daughter,  now  verging  into 
womanhood,  dresses  her  hair  with  flowers,  and  dances  gayly  to 
the  castanets. 

There  are  two  classes  of  people  to  whom  life  seems  one  long 
holiday,  the  very  rich,  and  the  very  poor  j  one  because  they  need 
do  nothing,  the  other  because  they  have  nothing  to  do ;  but  there 
are  none  who  understand  the  art  of  doing  nothing  and  living  upon 
nothing,  better  than  the  poor  classes  of  Spain.  Climate  does  one 
half,  and  temperament  the  rest.  Give  a  Spaniard  the  shade  in 
summer,  and  the  sun  in  winter ;  a  little  bread,  garlic,  oil,  and 
garbances,  an  old  brown  cloak  and  a  guitar,  and  let  the  world  roll 
on  as  it  pleases.  Talk  of  poverty  !  with  him  it  has  no  disgrace. 
It  sits  upon  him  with  a  grandiose  style,  like  his  ragged  cloak . 
He  is  a  hidalgo,  even  when  in  rags. 

The  "  sons  of  the  Alhambra  "  are  an  eminent  illustration  of 
this  practical  philosophy.  As  the  Moors  imagined  that  the  celes- 
tial paradise  hung  over  this  favored  spot,  so  I  am  inclined  at 
times  to  fancy,  that  a  gleam  of  the  golden  age  still  lingers  about 
this  ragged  community.  They  possess  nothing,  they  do  nothing, 
they  care  for  nothing.  Yet,  though  apparently  idle  all  the  week, 
they  are  as  observant  of  all  holy  days  and  saints'  days  as  the  most 
laborious  artisan.  They  attend  all  fetes  and  dancings  in  Gran- 
4 


74  ANGLING   IN  THE   SKY. 

ada  and  its  vicinity,  light  bonfires  on  the  hills  on  St.  John's  eve, 
and  dance  away  the  moonlight  nights  on  the  harvest-home  of  a 
small  field  within  the  precincts  of  the  fortress,  which  yield  a  few 
bushels  of  wheat. 

Before  concluding  these  remarks,  I  must  mention  one  of  the 
amusements  of  the  place  which  has  particularly  struck  me.  I  had 
repeatedly  observed  a  long  lean  fellow  perched  on  the  top  of  one 
of  the  towers,  manoeuvring  two  or  three  fishing-rods,  as  though 
he  were  angling  for  the  stars.  I  was  for  some  time  perplexed  by 
the  evolutions  of  this  aerial  fisherman,  and  my  perplexity  in- 
creased on  observing  others  employed  in  like  manner  on  different 
parts  of  the  battlements  and  bastions ;  it  was  not  until  I  consulted 
Mateo  Ximenes,  that  I  solved  the  mystery. 

It  seems  that  the  pure  and  airy  situation  of  this  fortress  has 
rendered  it,  like  the  castle  of  Macbeth,  a  prolific  breeding-place 
far  swallows  and  martlets,  who  sport  about  its  towers  in  myriads, 
with  the  holiday  glee  of  urchins  just  let  loose  from  school.  To 
entrap  these  birds  in  their  giddy  circlings,  with  hooks  baited  with 
flies,  is  one  of  the  favorite  amusements  of  the  ragged  "  sons  of 
the  Alhambra,"  who,  with  the  good-for-nothing  ingenuity  of 
arrant  idlers,  have  thus  invented  the  art  of  angling  in  the  sky. 


THE  HALL  OF  AMBASSADORS. 

IN  one  of  my  visits  to  the  old  Moorish  chamber,  where  the  §ood 
Tia  Antonia  cooks  her  dinner  and  receives  her  company,  I  ob- 
served a  mysterious  door  in  one  corner,  leading  apparently  into 
the  ancient  part  of  the  edifice.  My  curiosity  being  aroused,  I 
opened  it,  and  found  myself  in  a  narrow,  blind  corridor,  groping 
along  which  I  came  to  the  head  of  a  dark  winding  staircase,  lead- 
ing down  an  angle  of  the  tower  of  Comares.  Down  this  stair- 
case I  descended  darkling,  guiding  myself  by  the  wall  until  I  came 
to  a  small  door  at  the  bottom,  throwing  which  open,  I  was  sud- 
denly dazzled  by  emerging  into  the  brilliant  antechamber  of  the 
Hall  of  Ambassadors ;  with  the  fountain  of  the  court  of  the 
Alberca  sparkling  before  me.  The  antechamber  is  separated 
from  the  court  by  an  elegant  gallery,  supported  by  slender  col- 
umns with  spandrels  of  open  work  in  the  Morisco  style.  At  each 
end  of, the  antechamber  are  alcoves,  and  its  ceiling  is  richly 
stuccoed  and  painted.  Passing  through  a  magnificent  portal  I 
found  myself  in  the  far-famed  Hall  of  Ambassadors,  the  audience 
chamber  of  the  Moslem  monarchs.  It  is  said  to  be  thirty-seven 
feet  square,  and  sixty  feet  high ;  occupies  the  whole  interior  of 
the  Tower  of  Comares ;  and  still  bears  the  traces  of  past  magni- 
ficence. The  walls  are  beautifully  stuccoed  and  decorated  with 


76  THE  HALL   OF  AMBASSADOKS. 

Morisco  fancifulness ;  the  lofty  ceiling  was  originally  of  the  same 
favorite  material,  with  the  usual  frostwork  and  pensile  orna- 
ments or  stalactites  ;  which,  with  the  embellishments  of  vivid 
coloring  and  gilding,  must  have  been  gorgeous  in  the  extreme. 
Unfortunately  it  gave  way  during  an  earthquake,  and  brought 
down  with  it  an  immense  arch  which  traversed  the  hall.  It  was 
replaced  by  the  present  vault  or  dome  of  larch  or  cedar,  with 
intersecting  ribs,  the  whole  curiously  wrought  and  richly  colored  ; 
still  Oriental  in  its  character,  reminding  one  of  "  those  ceilings  of 
cedar  and  vermilion  that  we  read  of  in  the  prophets  and  the 
Arabian  Nights."* 

From  the  great  height  of  the  vault  above  the  windows  the 
upper  part  of  the  hall  is  almost  lost  in  obscurity  ;  yet  there  is  a 
magnificence  as  well  as  solemnity  in  the  gloom,  as  through  it  we 
have  gleams  of  rich  gilding  and  the  brilliant  tints  of  the  Moorish 
pencil. 

The  royal  throne  was  placed  opposite  the  entrance  in  a  recess, 
which  still  bears  an  inscription  intimating  that  Yusef  I.  (the 
monarch  who  completed  the  Alhambra)  made  this  the  throne  of 
his  empire.  Every  thing  in  this  noble  hall  seems  to  have  been 
calculated  to  surround  the  throne  with  impressive  dignity  and 
splendor ;  there  was  none  of  the  elegant  voluptuousness  which 
reigns  in  other  parts  of  the  palace.  The  tower  is  of  massive 
strength,  domineering  over  the  whole  edifice  and  overhanging  the 
steep  hillside.  On  three  sides  of  the  Hall  of  Ambassadors  are 
windows  cut  through  the  immense  thickness  of  the  walls,  and 
commanding  extensive  prospects.  The  balcony  of  the  central 
window  especially  looks  down  upon  the  verdant  valley  of  the 

*  Urquhart's  Pillars  of  Hercules. 


THE    HALL    OF    AMBASSADORS.  77 

Darro,  with  its  walks,  its  groves,  and  gardens.  To  the  left  it 
enjoys  a  distant  prospect  of  the  Vega,  while  directly  in  front 
rises  the  rival  height  of  the  Albaycin,  with  its  medley  of  streets,  and 
terraces,  and  gardens,  and  once  crowned  by  a  fortress  that  vied  in 
power  with  the  Alhambra.  :( 111  fated  the  man  who  lost  all  this  !" 
exclaimed  Charles  V.,  as  he  looked  forth  from  this  window  upon 
the  enchanting  scenery  it  commands. 

The  balcony  of  the  window  where  this  royal  exclamation  was 
made,  has  of  late  become  one  of  my  favorite  resorts.  I  have  just 
been  seated  there,  enjoying  the  close  of  a  long  brilliant  day. 
The  sun,  as  he  sank  behind  the  purple  mountains  of  Alhama, 
sent  a  stream  of  effulgence  up  the  valley  of  the  Darro,  that 
spread  a  melancholy  pomp  over  the  ruddy  towers  of  the  Alham- 
bra; while  the  Vega,  covered  with  a  slight  sultry  vapor  that 
caught  the  setting  ray,  seemed  spread  out  in  the  distance  like  a 
golden  sea.  Not  a  breath  of  air  disturbed  the  stillness  of  the 
hour,  and  though  the  faint  sound  of  music  and  merriment  now 
*id  then  rose  from  the  gardens  of  the  Darro,  it  but  rendered 
more  impressive  the  monumental  silence  of  the  pile  which  over- 
shadowed me.  It  was  one  of  those  hours  and  scenes  in  which 
memory  asserts  an  almost  magical  power ;  and,  like  the  evening 
eun  beaming  on  these  mouldering  towers,  sends  back  her  retro- 
spective rays  to  light  up  the  glories  of  the  past. 

As  I  sat  watching  the  effect  of  the  declining  daylight  upon 
this  Moorish  pile,  I  was  led  into  a  consideration  of  the  light, 
elegant,  and  voluptuous  character,  prevalent  throughout  its  inter- 
nal architecture ;  and  to  contrast  it  with  the  grand  but  gloomy 
solemnity  of  the  Gothic  edifices  reared  by  the  Spanish  conquerors. 
The  very  architecture  thus  bespeaks  the  opposite  and  irreconci- 
lable natures  of  the  two  warlike  people  who  so  long  battled  here 


78  THE   MOSLEMS    OF   SPAIN. 

for  the  mastery  of  the  peninsula.  By  degrees,  I  fell  into  a 
course  of  musing  upon  the  singular  fortunes  of  the  Arabian  or 
Morisco-Spaniards,  whose  whole  existence  is  as  a  tale  that  is  told, 
and  certainly  forms  one  of  the  most  anomalous  yet  splendid 
episodes  in  history.  Potent  and  durable  as  was  their  dominion, 
we  scarcely  know  how  to  call  them.  They  were  a  nation  without  a 
legitimate  country  or  name.  A  remote  wave  of  the  great  Arabian 
inundation,  cast  upon  the  shores  of  Europe,  they  seem  to  have  all 
the  impetus  of  the  first  rush  of  the  torrent.  Their  career  of 
conquest,  from  the  rock  of  Gibraltar  to  the  cliffs  of  the  Pyrenees, 
was  as  rapid  and  brilliant  as  the  Moslem  victories  of  Syria  and 
Egypt.  Nay,  had  they  not  been  checked  on  the  plains  of  Tours, 
all  France,  all  Europe,  might  have  been  overrun  with  the  same 
facility  as  the  empires  of  the  East,  and  the  crescent  at  this  day 
have  glittered  on  the  fanes  of  Paris  and  London. 

Repelled  within  the  limits  of  the  Pyrenees,  the  mixed  hordes 
of  Asia  and  Africa,  that  formed  this  great  irruption,  gave  up  the 
Moslem  principle  of  conquest,  and  sought  to  establish  in  Spain  • 
peaceful  and  permanent  dominion.  As  conquerors,  their  heroism 
was  only  equalled  by  their  moderation ;  and  in  both,  for  a  time, 
they  excelled  the  nations  with  whom  they  contended.  Severed 
from  their  native  homes,  they  loved  the  land  given  them  as  they 
supposed  by  Allah,  and  strove  to  embellish  it  with  every  thing 
that  could  administer  to  the  happiness  of  man.  Laying  the  foun- 
dations of  their  power  in  a  system  of  wise  and  equitable  laws, 
diligently  cultivating  the  arts  and  sciences,  ani  promoting  agri- 
culture, manufactures,  and  commerce  ;  they  gradually  formed  an 
empire  unrivalled  for  its  prosperity  by  any  of  the  empires  of 
Christendom ;  and  diligently  drawing  round  them  the  graces  and 
refinements  which  marked  the  Arabian  empire  in  the  East,  at  the 


MOSLEM  MONUMENTS.  <  O 

time  of  its  greatest  civilization,  they  diffused  the  light  of  Oriental 
knowledge,  through  the  Western  regions  of  benighted  Europe. 

The  cities  of  Arabian  Spain  became  the  resort  of  Christian 
artisans,  to  instruct  themselves  in  the  useful  arts.  The  univer- 
sities of  Toledo,  Cordova,  Seville,  and  Granada,  were  sought  by 
the  pale  student  from  other  lands  to  acquaint  himself  with  tho 
sciences  of  the  Arabs,  and  the  treasured  lore  of  antiquity ;  the 
lovers  of  the  gay  science,  resorted  to  Cordova  and  Granada,  to 
imbibe  the  poetry  and  music  of  the  East ;  and  the  steel-clad  war- 
riors of  the  North  hastened  thither  to  accomplish  themselves  in 
the  graceful  exercises  and  courteous  usages  of  chivalry. 

If  the  Moslem  monuments  in  Spain,  if  the  Mosque  of  Cor- 
dova, the  Alcazar  of  Seville,  and  the  Alhambra  of  Granada,  still 
bear  inscriptions  fondly  boasting  of  the  power  and  permanency 
of  their  dominion ;  can  the  boast  be  derided  as  arrogant  and 
vain  ?  Generation  after  generation,  century  after  century,  passed 
away,  and  still  they  maintained  possession  of  the  land.  A  period 
elapsed  longer  than  that  which  has  passed  since  England  was  sub- 
jugated by  the  Norman  Conqueror,  and  the  descendants  of  Musa 
and  Taric  might  as  little  anticipate  being  driven  into  exile  across 
the  same  straits,  traversed  by  their  triumphant  ancestors,  as  the 
descendants  of  Hollo  and  William,  and  their  veteran  peers,  may 
dream  of  being  driven  back  to  the  shores  of  Normandy. 

With  all  this,  however,  the  Moslem  empire  in  Spain  was  but 
a  brilliant  exotic,  that  took  no  permanent  root  in  the  soil  it  em- 
bellished. Severed  from  all  their  neighbors  in  the  West,  by  im- 
passable barriers  of  faith  and  manners,  and  separated  by  seas  and 
deserts  from  their  kindred  of  the  East,  the  Morisco  Spaniards 
were  an  isolated  people.  Their  whole  existence  was  a  prolonged, 
though  gallant  and  chivalric  struggle,  for  a  foothold  in  a  usurped 
land. 


80  MOSLEM  MONUMENTS. 

They  were  the  outposts  and  frontiers  of  Islamism.  The  pen 
insula  was  the  great  battle-ground  where  the  Gothic  conquerors 
of  the  North  and  the  Moslem  conquerors  of  the  East,  met  and 
strove  for  mastery ;  and  the  fiery  courage  of  the  Arab  was  at 
length  subdued  by  the  obstinate  and  persevering  valor  of  tko 
Goth. 

Never  w*s  the  annihilation  of  a  people  more  complete  than 
that  of  the  Morisco-Spaniards.  Where  are  they?  Ask  the 
shores  of  Barbary  and  its  desert  places.  The  exiled  remnant  of 
their  once  powerful  empire  disappeared  among  the  barbarians  of 
Africa,  and  ceased  to  be  a  nation.  They  have  not  even  left  a 
distinct  name  behind  them,  though  for  nearly  eight  centuries  they 
were  a  distinct  people.  The  home  of  their  adoption,  and  of  their 
occupation  for  ages,  refuses  to  acknowledge  them,  except  as  in- 
vaders and  usurpers.  A  few  broken  monuments  are  all  that  re- 
main to  bear  witness  to  their  power  and  dominion,  as  solitary 
rocks,  left  far  in  the  interior,  bear  testimony  to  the  extent  of  some 
vast  inundation.  Such  is  the  Alhambra.  A  Moslem  pile  in  the 
midst  of  a  Christian  land ;  an  Oriental  palace  amidst  the  Gothic 
edifices  of  the  West ;  an  elegant  memento  of  a  brave,  intelligent, 
and  graceful  people,  who  conquered,  ruled,  flourished,  and  pasfied 
away. 


THE  JESUITS'  LIBRARY. 

SINCE  indulging  in  the  foregoing  reverie,  my  curiosity  has  been 
aroused  to  know  something  of  the  princes,  who  left  behind  them 
this  monument  of  Oriental  taste  and  magnificence ;  and  whose 
names  still  appear  among  the  inscriptions  on  its  walls.  To  gratify 
this  curiosity,  I  have  descended  from  this  region  of  fancy  and 
fable,  where  every  thing  is  liable  to  take  an  imaginary  tint,  and 
have  carried  my  researches  among  the  dusty  tomes  of  the  old 
Jesuits'  Library,  in  the  University.  This  once  boasted  repository 
of  erudition  is  now  a  mere  shadow  of  its  former  self,  having  been 
stripped  of  its  manuscripts  and  rarest  works  by  the  French,  when 
masters  of  Granada;  still  it  contains  among  many  ponderous 
tomes  of  the  Jesuit  fathers,  which  the  French  were  careful  to 
leave  behind,  several  .curious  tracts  of  Spanish  literature;  and 
above  all,  a  number  of  those  antiquated  parchment-bound  chron- 
icles for  which  I  have  a  particular  veneration. 

In  this  old  library,  I  have  passed  many  delightful  hours  of 
quiet,  undisturbed,  literary  foraging ;  for  the  keys  of  the  doors 
and  bookcases  were  kindly  intrusted  to  me,  and  I  was  left  alone, 
to  rumniage  at  my  pleasure — a  rare  indulgence  in  these  sanctua- 
ries of  learning,  which  too  often  tantalize  the  thirsty  student  with 
the  sight  of  sealed  fountains  of  knowledge. 

In  the  course  of  these  visits  I  gleaned  a  variety  of  facts  con- 
cerning historical  characters  connected  with  the  Alhambra,  some 
of  which  I  here  subjoin,  trusting  they  may  prove  acceptable  to 
the  reader. 

4* 


ALHAMAR,  THE  FOUNDER  OF  THE  ALHAMBRA. 

THE  Moors  of  Granada  regarded  the  Alhambra  as  a  miracle  of 
art,  and  had  a  tradition  that  the  king  who  founded  it  dealt  in 
magic,  or  at  least  in  alchemy,  by  means  whereof  he  procured  the 
immense  sums  of  gold  expended  in  its  erection.  A  brief  view  of 
his  reign  will  show  the  secret  of  his  wealth.  He  is  known  in 
Arabian  history  as  Muhamed  Ibn-1-Ahmar ;  but  his  name  in 
general  is  written  simply  Alhamar,  and  was  given  to  him,  we  are 
told,  on  account  of  his  ruddy  complexion.* 

He  was  of  the  noble  and  opulent  line  of  the  Beni  Nasar,  or 
tribe  of  Nasar,  and  was  born  in  Arjona,  in  the  year  of  the 
Hegira  592  (A.  D.  1 195).  At  his  birth  the  astrologers,  we  are 
told,  cast  his  horoscope  according  to  Oriental  custom,  and  pro- 
Dounced  it  highly  auspicious  ;  and  a  santon  predicted  for  him  a 
glorious  career.  No  expense  was  spared  in  fitting  him  for  the 
high  destinies  prognosticated.  Before  he  attained  the  full  years 
of  manhood,  the  famous  battle  of  the  Navas  (or  plains)  of  Tolosa 
shattered  the  Moorish  empire,  and  eventually  severed  the  Mos- 

*  Et  porque  era  muy  rubio  llamaban  lo  los  Moros  Abemilhamar,  que 
quiere  decir  bermejo  .  .  .  .  et  porque  los  Moros  lo  llamaban  Benalbamar 
que  quiere  decir  bermejo  tomo  los  senales  bermejos,  seguii  que  los  ovieron 
despues  los  Reyes  de  Granada. — BLEDA,  Cronica  de  Alfonso  XL,  P.  L  0. 44 


ALHAMAB.  83 

lems  of  Spain  from  the  Moslems  of  Africa.  Factions  soon 
arose  among  the  former,  headed  by  warlike  chiefs,  ambitious  of 
grasping  the  sovereignty  of  the  Peninsula.  Alhamar  became  en- 
gaged in  these  wars ;  he  was  the  general  and  leader  of  the  Beni 
Nasar,  and,  as  such,  he  opposed  and  thwarted  the  ambition  of 
Aben  Hud,  who  had  raised  his  standard  among  the  warlike 
mountains  of  the  Alpuxaras,  and  been  proclaimed  king  of  Mur- 
cia  and  Granada.  Many  conflicts  took  place  between  these  warring 
chieftains ;  Alhamar  dispossessed  his  rival  of  several  important 
places,  and  was  proclaimed  king  of  Jaen  by  his  soldiery ;  but  he 
aspired  to  the  sovereignty  of  the  whole  of  Andalusia,  for  he  was 
of  a  sanguine  spirit  and  lofty  ambition.  His  valor  and  generosity 
went  hand  in  hand ;  what  he  gained  by  the  one  he  secured  by 
the  other;  and  at  the  death  of  Aben  Hud  (A.  D.  1238),  he  be- 
came sovereign  of  all  the  territories  which  owned  allegiance  to 
that  powerful  chief.  He  made  his  formal  entry  into  Granada 
in  the  same  year,  amid  the  enthusiastic  shouts  of  the  multitude, 
who  hailed  him  as  the  only  one  capable  of  uniting  the  various 
factions  which  prevailed,  and  which  threatened  to  lay  the  empire 
at  the  mercy  of  the  Christian  princes. 

Alhamar  established  his  court  in  Granada ;  he  was  the  first 
of  the  illustrious  line  of  Nasar  that  sat  upon  a  throne.  He  took 
immediate  measures  to  put  his  little  kingdom  in  a  posture  of 
defence, against  the  assaults  to  be  expected  from  his  Christian  neigh- 
bors, repairing  and  strengthening  the  frontier  posts  and  fortifying 
the  capital.  Not  content  with  the  provisions  of  the  Moslem  law,  by 
which  every  man  is  made  a  soldier,  he  raised  a  regular  army  to  gar- 
rison  his  strong-holds,  allowing  every  soldier  stationed  on  the  fron- 
tier a  portion  of  land  for  the  support  of  himself,  his  horse,  and  his 
family ;  thus  interesting  him  in  the  defence  of  the  soil  in  whieh 


84  ALHAMAK. 

he  had  a  property.  These  wise  precautions  were  justified  by 
events.  The  Christians,  profiting  by  the  dismemberment  of  the 
Moslem  power,  were  rapidly  regaining  their  ancient  territories. 
James  the  Conqueror  had  subjected  all  Valencia,  and  Ferdinand 
the  Saint  sat  down  in  person  before  Jaen,  the  bulwark  of  Gra- 
nada. Alhamar  ventured  to  oppose  him  in.  open  field,  but  met 
with  a  signal  defeat,  and  retired  discomfited  to  his  capital.  Jaen 
still  held  out,  and  kept  the  enemy  at  bay  during  an  entire  win- 
ter, but  Ferdinand  swore  not  to  raise  his  camp  until  he  had 
gained  possession  of  the  place.  Alhamar  found  it  impossible  to 
throw  reinforcements  into  the  besieged  city  ;  he  saw  that  its  fall 
must  be  followed  by  the  investment  of  his  capital,  and  was  con- 
scious of  the  insufficiency  of  his  means  to  cope  with  the  potent 
sovereign  of  Castile.  Taking  a  sudden  resolution,  therefore,  he 
repaired  privately  to  the  Christian  camp,  made  his  unexpected 
appearance  in  the  presence  of  King  Ferdinand,  and  frankly  an- 
nounced himself  as  the  king  of  Granada.  "  I  come,"  said  he, 
"  confiding  in  your  good  faith,  to  put  myself  under  your  protec- 
tion. Take  all  I  possess  and  receive  me  as  your  vassal ;"  so  say- 
ing, he  knelt  and  kissed  the  king's  hand  in  token  of  allegiance. 

Ferdinand  was  won  by  this  instance  of  confiding  faith,  and 
determined  not  to  be  outdone  in  generosity.  He  raised  his  late 
enemy  from  the  earth,  embraced  him  as  a  friend,  and,  refusing 
the  wealth  he  offered,  left  him  sovereign  of  his  dominions,  under 
the  feudal  tenure  of  a  yearly  tribute,  attendance  at  the  Cortes 
as  one  of  the  nobles  of  the  empire,  and  service  in  war  with  a 
certain  number  of  horsemen.  He  moreover  conferred  on  him 
the  honor  of  knighthood,  and  armed  him  with  his  own  hands. 

It  was  not  long  after  this  that  Alhamar  was  called  upon,  for 
his  military  services,  to  aid  King  Ferdinand  in  his  famous  siege 


ALHAMAR.  85 

of  Seville.  The  Moorish  king  sallied  forth  with  five  hundred 
chosen  horsemen  of  Granada,  than  whom  none  in  the  world 
knew  better  how  to  manage  the  steed  or  wield  the  lance.  It  was 
a  humiliating  service,  however,  for  they  had  to  draw  the  sword 
gainst  their  brethren  of  the  faith. 

Alhamar  gained  a  melancholy  distinction  by  his  prowess  in 
this  renowned  conquest,  but  more  true  honor  by  the  humanity 
which  he  prevailed  upon  Ferdinand  to  introduce  into  the  usages 
of  war.  When  in  1248  the  famous  city' of  Seville  surrendered 
to  the  Castilian  monarch,  Alhamar  returned  sad  and  full  of  care 
to  his  dominions.  He  saw  the  gathering  ills  that  menaced  the 
Moslem  cause  ;  and  uttered  an  ejaculation  often  used  by  him  in 
moments  of  anxiety  and  trouble — "  How  straitened  and  wretched 
would  be  our  life,  if  our  hope  were  not  so  spacious  and  exten- 
sive." "  Que  angoste  y  miserabile  seria  nuestra  vida,  sino  fuera 
tan  dilatada  y  espaciosa  nuestra  esperanza  !" 

As  he  approached  Granada  on  his  return  he  beheld  arches  of 
triumph  which  had  been  erected  in  honor  of  his  martial  exploits. 
The  people  thronged  forth  to  see  him  with  impatient  joy,  for  his 
benignant  rule  had  won  all  hearts.  Wherever  he  passed  he  was 
hailed  with  acclamations  as  "  El  Ghalib  !"  (the  conqueror).  Al- 
hamar gave  a  melancholy  shake  of  the  head  on  hearing  the  ap- 
pellation. uWa  le  gkalib  He  AZdb!"  (there  is  no  conqueror  but 
God)  exclaimed  he.  From  that  time  forward  this  exclamation 
became  his  motto,  and  the  motto  of  his  descendants,  and  appears 
to  this  day  emblazoned  on  his  escutcheons  in  the  halls  of  the 
Alhambra. 

Alhamar  had  purchased  peace  by  submission  to  the  Christian 
yoke ;  but  he  was  conscious  that,  with  elements  so  discordant 
and  motives  for  hostility  so  deep  and  ancient,  it  could  not  be  per 
4* 


86  ALHAMAE. 

manent.     Acting,  therefore,  upon  'the  old  maxim,  "  arm  thyself 
in  peace  and  clothe  thyself  in  summer,"  he  improved  the  present 
interval  of  tranquillity  by  fortifying  his  dominions,  replenishing 
his  arsenals,  and  promoting  those  useful  arts  which  give  wealth 
and  real  power.     He  confided  the  command  of  his  various  cities 
to  such  as  had  distinguished  themselves  by  valor  and  prudence, 
and  who  seemed  most  acceptable  to  the  people.     He  organized  a 
vigilant  police,  and  established  rigid  rules  for  the  administration 
of  justice.     The  poor  and  the  distressed  always  found  ready  ad- 
mission to  his  presence,  and   he   attended  personally  to  their 
assistance  and  redress.     He  erected  hospitals  for  the  blind,  the 
aged,  and  infirm,  and  all  those  incapable  of  labor,  and  visited 
them  frequently ;  not  on  set  days  with  pomp  and  form,  so  as  to 
give  time  for  every  thing  to  be  put  in  order,  and  every  abuse 
concealed  ;  but  suddenly,  and  unexpectedly,  informing  himself,  by 
actual  observation  and  close  inquiry,  of  the  treatment  of  the 
sick,  and  the  conduct  of  those  appointed  to  administer  to  their 
relief.     He  founded  schools  and  colleges,  which  he  visited  in  the 
same  manner,  inspecting  personally  the  instruction  of  the  youth. 
He  established  butcheries  and  public  ovens,  that    the    people 
might  be  furnished  with  wholesome  provisions  at  just  and  regu- 
lar prices.     He  introduced  abundant  streams  of  water  into  the 
city,  erecting  baths  and  fountains,   and  constructing  aqueducts 
and  canals  to  irrigate  and  fertilize  the  Vega.     By  these  means 
prosperity  and  abundance  prevailed  in  this  beautiful  city,  its 
gates  were  thronged  with  commerce,  and  its  warehouses  filled 
with  luxuries  and  merchandise  of  every  clime  and  country. 

He  moreover  gave  premiums  and  privileges  to  the  best  arti- 
gans ;  improved  the  breed  of  horses  and  other  domestic  animals : 
encouraged  husbandry  ;  and  increased  the  natural  fertility  of  the 


ALHAMAK.  87 

soil  twofold  by  his  protection,  making  the  lovely  valleys  of  his 
kingdom  to  bloom  like  gardens.  He  fostered  also  the  growth  and 
fabrication  of  silk,  until  the  looms  of  Granada  surpassed  even 
those  of  Syria  in  the  fineness  and  beauty  of  their  productions. 
He  moreover  caused  the  mines  of  gold  and  silver  and  other 
metals,  found  in  the  mountainous  regions  of  his  dominions,  to  be 
diligently  worked,  and  was  the  first  king  of  Granada  who  struck 
money  of  gold  and  silver  with  his  name,  taking  great  care  that 
the  coins  should  be  skilfully  executed. 

It  was  towards  the  middle  of  the  thirteenth  century,  and  just 
after  his  return  from  the  siege  of  Seville,  that  he  commenced  the 
splendid  palace  of  the  Alhambra;  superintending  the  building  of 
it  in  person ;  mingling  frequently  among  the  artists  and  work- 
men, and  directing  their  labors. 

Though  thus  magnificent  in  his  works  and  great  in  his  enter- 
prises, he  was  simple  in  his  person  and  moderate  in  his  enjoy- 
ments. His  dress  was  not  merely  void  of  splendor,  but  so  plain 
as  not  to  distinguish  him  from  his  subjects.  His  harem  boasted 
but  few  beauties,  and  these  he  visited  but  seldom,  though  they 
were  entertained  with  great  magnificence.  His  wives  were  daugh- 
ters of  the  principal  nobles,  and  were  treated  by  him  as  friends 
and  rational  companions.  What  is  more,  he  managed  to  make 
them  live  in  friendship  with  one  another.  He  passed  much  of  his 
time  in  his  gardens ;  especially  in  those  of  the  Alhambra,  which  he 
had  stored  with  the  rarest  plants  and  the  most  beautiful  and 
aromatic  flowers.  Here  he  delighted  himself  in  reading  histories, 
or  in  causing  them  to  be  read  and  related  to  him,  and  sometimes, 
in  intervals  of  leisure,  employed  himself  in  the  instruction  of  his 
three  sons,  for  whom  he  had  provided  the  most  learned  and  vir- 
tuous masters. 


88  ALHAMAB. 

As  he  had  frankly  and  voluntarily  offered  himself  a  tributary 
vassal  to  Ferdinand,  so  he  always  remained  loyal  to  his  word, 
giving  him  repeated  proofs  of  fidelity  and  attachment.  "When 
that  renowned  monarch  died  in  Seville  in  1254,  Alhamar  sent 
ambassadors  to  condole  with  his  successor,  Alonzo  X.,  and  with 
them  a  gallant  train  of  a  hundred  Moorish  cavaliers  of  distin- 
guished rank,  who  were  to  attend  round  the  royal  bier  during 
the  funeral  ceremonies,  each  bearing  a  lighted  taper.  This  grand 
testimonial  of  respect  was  repeated  by  the  Moslem  monarch 
during  the  remainder  of  his  life  on  each  anniversary  of  the  death 
of  King  Ferdinand  el  Santo,  when  the  hundred  Moorish  knights 
repaired  from  Granada  to  Seville,  and  took  their  stations  with 
lighted  tapers  in  the  centre  of  the  sumptuous  cathedral  round 
the  cenotaph  of  the  illustrious  deceased. 

Alhamar  retained  his  faculties  and  vigor  to  an  advanced  age. 
In  his  seventy-ninth  year  (A.  D.  1272)  he  took  the  field  on  horse- 
back, accompanied  by  the  flower  of  his  chivalry,  to  resist  an  in- 
vasion of  his  territories.  '  As  the  army  sallied  forth  from  Gran- 
ada, one  of  the  principal  adalides,  or  guides,  who  rode  in  the 
advance,  accidentally  broke  his  lance  against  the  arch  of  the  gate. 
The  councillors  of  the  king,  alarmed  by  this  circumstance,  which 
was  considered  an  evil  omen,  entreated  him  to  return.  Their 
supplications  were  in  vain.  The  king  persisted,  and  at  noontide 
the  omen,  say  the  Moorish  chroniclers,  was  fatally  fulfilled, 
Alhamar  was  suddenly  struck  with  illness,  and  had  nearly  fallen 
from  his  horse.  He  was  placed  on  a  litter,  and  borne  back  to- 
wards Granada,  but  his  illness  increased  to  such  a  degree  that 
they  were  obliged  to  pitch  his  tent  in  the  Yega.  His  physicians 
were  filled  with  consternation,  not  knowing  what  remedy  to  pre- 
icribe.  In  a  few  hours  he  died,  vomiting  blood  and  in  violent 


ALII  AM  A  it.  89 

convulsions.    The  Castilian  prince,  Don  Philip,  brother  of  Alonzo 
X..  was  by  his  side  when  he  expired.     His  body  was  embalmed, 
enclosed  in  a  silver  coffin,  and  buried  in  the  Alhambra  in  a  sep- 
ulchre of  precious  marble,  amidst  the  unfeigned  lamentations  o 
his  subjects,  who  bewailed  him  as  a  parent. 

I  have  said  that  he  was  the  first  of  the  illustrious  line  of 
Nasar  that  sat  upon  a  throne.  I  may  add  that  he  was  the  founder 
of  a  brilliant  kingdom,  which  will  ever  be  famous  in  history  and 
romance,  as  the  last  rallying  place  of  Moslem  power  and  splendor 
in  the  peninsula.  Though  his  undertakings  were  vast,  and  his 
expenditures  immense,  yet  his  treasury  was  always  full ;  and  this 
seeming  contradiction  gave  rise  to  the  story  that  he  was  versed 
in  magic  art,  and  possessed  of  the  secret  for  transmuting  baser 
metals  into  gold.  Those  who  have  attended  to  his  domestic  pol- 
icy, as  here  set  forth,  will  easily  understand  the  natural  magic 
and  simple  alchemy  which  made  his  ample  treasury  to  overflow. 


YIJSEF  ABUL  HAGIG, 

THE  FINISHER  OF  THE  ALHAMBRA. 

To  the  foregoing  particulars,  concerning  the  Moslem  princes  who 
once  reigned  in  these  halls,  I  shall  add  a  brief  notice  of  the  mon- 
arch who  completed  and  embellished  the  Alhambra.  Yusef  Abul 
Hagig  (or  as  it  is  sometimes  written,  Haxis)  was  another  prince 
of  the  noble  line  of  Nasar.  He  ascended  the  throne  of  Granada 
in  the  year  of  grace  1333,  and  is  described  by  Moslem  writers  as 
having  a  noble  presence,  great  bodily  strength,  and  a  fair  com- 
plexion, and  the  majesty  of  his  countenance  increased,  say  they, 
by  suffering  his  beard  to  grow  to  a  dignified  length  and  dying  it 
black.  His  manners  were  gentle,  affable,  and  urbane ;  he  carried 
the  benignity  of  his  nature  into  warfare,  prohibiting  all  wanton 
cruelty,  and  enjoining  mercy  and  protection  towards  women  and 
children,  the  aged  and  infirm,  and  all  friars  and  other  persons  of 
holy  and  recluse  life.  But  though  he  possessed  the  courage  com- 
mon to  generous  spirits,  the  bent  of  his  genius  was  more  for  peace 
than  war,  and  though  repeatedly  obliged  by  circumstances  to  take 
up  arms,  he  was  generally  unfortunate. 

Among  other  ill-starred  enterprises,  he  undertook  a  great 
campaign,  in  conjunction  with  the  king  of  Morocco,  against  the 


YUSEF   ABUL   HAGIG.  91 

kings  of  Castile  and  Portugal,  but  was  defeated  in  the  memorable 
battle  of  Salado,  which  had  nearly  proved  a  death-blow  to  the 
Moslem  power  in  Spain. 

Yusef  obtained  a  long  truce  after  this  defeat,  and  now  his 
character  shone  forth  in  its  true  lustre.  He  had  an  excellent 
memory,  and  had  stored  his  mind  with  science  and  erudition;  his 
taste  was  altogether  elegant  and  refined,  and  he  was  accounted 
the  best  poet  of  his  time.  Devoting  himself  to  the  instruction  of 
his  people  and  the  improvement  of  their  morals  and  manners,  he 
established  schools  in  all  the  villages,  with  simple  and  uniform 
systems  of  education ;  he  obliged  every  hamlet  of  more  than 
twelve  houses  to  have  a  mosque,  and  purified  the  ceremonies  of 
religion,  and  the  festivals  and  popular  amusements,  from  various 
abuses  and  indecorums  which  had  crept  into  them.  He  attended 
vigilantly  to  the  police  of  the  city,  establishing  nocturnal  guards 
and  patrols,  and  superintending  all  municipal  concerns.  His 
attention  was  also  directed  towards  finishing  the  great  architec- 
tural works  commenced  by  his  predecessors,  and  erecting  others 
on  his  own  plans.  The  Alhambra,  which  had  been  founded  by 
the  good  Alhamar,  was  now  completed.  Yusef  constructed  the 
beautiful  Gate  of  Justice,  forming  the  grand  entrance  to  the  for- 
tress, which  he  finished  in  1348.  He  likewise  adorned  many  of 
the  courts  and  halls  of  the  palace,  as  may  be  seen  by  the  inscrip- 
tions on  the  walls,  in  which  his  name  repeatedly  occurs.  He 
built  also  the  noble  Alcazar  or  citadel  of  Malaga,  now  unfortu- 
nately a  mere  mass  of  crumbling  ruins,  but  which  most  probably 
exhibited  in  its  interior,  similar  elegance  and  magnificence  with 
the  Alhambra. 

The  genius  of  a  sovereign  stamps  a  character  upon  his  time. 
The  nobles  of  Granada,  imitating  the  elegant  and  graceful  taste 


92  YUSEF   ABUL   HAGIG. 

of  Yusef,  soon  filled  the  city  of  Granada  with  magnificent  palaces ; 
the  halls  of  which  were  paved  with  Mosaic,  the  walls  and  ceilings 
wrought  in  fretwork,  and  delicately  gilded  and  painted  with 
azure,  vermilion,  and  other  brilliant  colors,  or  minutely  inlaid 
with  cedar  and  other  precious  woods ;  specimens  of  which  have 
survived,  in  all  their  lustre,  the  lapse  of  several  centuries.  Many 
of  the  houses  had  fountains,  which  threw  up  jets  of  water  to  re- 
fresh and  cool  the  air.  They  had  lofty  towers  also,  of  wood  or 
stone,  curiously  carved  and  ornamented,  and  covered  with  plates 
of  metal  that  glittered  in  the  sun.  Such  was  the  refined  and 
delicate  taste  in  architecture  that  prevailed  among  this  elegant 
people ;  insomuch  that  to  use  the  beautiful  simile  of  an  Arabian 
writer,  "  Granada,  in  the  days  of  Yusef,  was  as  a  silver  vase  filled 
with  emeralds  and  jacinths." 

One  anecdote  will  be  sufficient  to  show  the  magnanimity  of 
this  generous  prince.  The  long  truce  which  had  succeeded  the 
battle  of  Salado  was  at  an  end,  and  every  effort  of  Yusef  to  renew 
it  was  in  vain.  His  deadly  foe,  Alfonzo  XI.  of  Castile,  took  the 
field  with  great  force,  and  laid  siege  to  Gibraltar.  Yusef  reluc- 
tantly took  up  arms,  and  sent  troops  to  the- relief  of  the  place. 
In  the  midst  of  his  anxiety,  he  received  tidings  that  his 
dreaded  foe  had  suddenly  fallen  a  victim  to  the  plague.  Instead 
of  manifesting  exultation  on  the  occasion,  Yusef  called  to  mind 
the  great  qualities  of  th'e  deceased,  and  was  touched  with  a  noble 
sorrow.  "  Alas  !"  cried  he,  "  the  world  has  lost  one  of  its  most 
excellent  princes;  a  sovereign  who  knew  how  to  honor  merit, 
whether  in  friend  or  foe  P 

The  Spanish  chroniclers  themselves  bear  witness  to  this  mag- 
nanimity. According  to  their  accounts,  the  Moorish  cavaliers 
partook  of  the  sentiment  of  their  king,  and  put  on  mourning  ftr 


YUSEF  ABTTL   HAGIG.  93 

the  death  of  Alfonzo.  Even  those  of  Gibraltar,  who  had  been  so 
closely  invested,  when  they  knew  that  the  hostile  monarch  lay 
dead  in  his  camp,  determined  among  themselves  that  no  hostile 
movement  should  be  made  against  the  Christians.  The  day  on 
which  the  camp  was  broken  up,  and  the  army  departed  bearing 
the  corpse  of  Alfonzo.  the  Moors  issued  in  multitudes  from  Gib 
raltar,  and  stood  mute  and  melancholy,  watching  the  mournful 
pageant.  The  same  reverence  for  the  deceased  was  observed  by 
all  the  Moorish  commanders  on  the  frontiers,  who  suffered  the 
funeral  train  to  pass  in  safety,  bearing  the  corpse  of  the  Christian 
sovereign  from  Gibraltar  to  Seville.* 

Yusef  did  not  long  survive  the  enemy  he  had  so  generously 
deplored.  In  the  year  1354,  as  he  was  one  day  praying  in  the 
royal  mosque  of  the  Alhambra,  a  maniac  rushed  suddenly  from 
behind  and  plunged  a  dagger  in  his  side.  The  cries  of  the  king 
brought  his  guards  and  courtiers  to  his  assistance.  They  found 
him  weltering  in  his  blood.  He  made  some  signs  as  if  to  speak, 
but. his  words  were  unintelligible.  They  bore  him  senseless  to 
the  royal  apartments,  where  he  expired  almost  immediately. 
The  murderer  was  cut  to  pieces,  and  his  limbs  burnt  in  public  to 
gratify  the  fury  of  the  populace. 

The  body  of  the  king  was  interred  in  a  superb  sepulchre  of 
white  marble ;  a  long  epitaph,  in  letters  of  gold  upon  an  azure 
ground,  recorded  his  virtues.  "  Here  lies  a  king  and  martyr,  of 
an  illustrious  line,  gentle,  learned,  and  virtuous ;  renowned  for 

*  "  Y  los  moros  que  estaban  en  la  villa  y  Castillo  de  Gibraltar  despuea 
que  sopieron  que  el  Rey  Don  Alonzo  era  muerto,  ordenaron  entresi  que  nin- 
guiio  non  fuesse  osado  de  fazer  ningun  movimiento  contra  los  Cbristianos,  ni 
mover  pelear  contra  ellos,  estovieron  todos  quedos  y  dezian  entre  ellos  qui 
aquel  dia  muriera  un  noble  rey  y  Gran  principe  del  mundo." 


94  YUSEF   ABUL,   HAGIG. 

the  graces  of  his  person  and  his  manners  ;  whose  clemency,  piety 
and  benevolence,  were  extolled  throughout  the  kingdom  of  Gran- 
ada. He  was  a  great  prince ;  an  illustrious  captain ;  a  sharp 
sword  of  the  Moslems ;  a  valiant  standard-bearer  among  the  most 
potent  monarchs,"  &c. 

The  mosque  still  exists  which  once  resounded  with  the  dying 
cries  of  Yusef,  but  the  monument  which  recorded  his  virtues  has 
long  since  disappeared.  His  name,  however,  remains  inscribed 
among  the  delicate  and  graceful  ornaments  of  the  Alhambra,  and 
will  be  perpetuated  in  connection  with  this  renowned  pile,  which 
it  was  his  pride  and  delight  to  beautify. 


THE  MYSTERIOUS  CHAMBERS.  . 

As  I  was  rambling  one  day  about  the  Moorish  halls,  my  atten- 
tion was,  for  the  first  time,  attracted  to  a  door  in  a  remote  gal- 
lory,  communicating  apparently  with  some  part  of  the  Alhambra 
which  I  had  not  yet  explored.  I  attempted  to  open  it,  but  it 
was  locked.  I  knocked,  but  no  one  answered,  and  the  sound 
seemed  to  reverberate  -  through  empty  chambers.  Here  then 
was  a  mystery.  Here  was  the  haunted  wing  of  the  castle.  How 
was  I  to  get  at  the  dark  secrets  here  shut  up  from  the  public 
eye  ?  Should  I  come  privately  at  night  with  lamp  and  sword, 
according  to  the  prying  custom  of  heroes  of  romance  ;  or 
should  I  endeavor  to  draw  the  secret  from  Pepe  the  stuttering 
gardener  ;  or  the  ingenuous  Dolores,  or  the  loquacious  Mateo  ? 
Or  should  I  go  frankly  and  openly  to  Dame  Antonia  the  chate- 
laine, and  ask  her  all  about  it  ?  I  chose  the  latter  course,  as  being 
the  simplest  though  the  least  romantic  ;  and  found,  somewhat  to 
my  disappointment,  that  there  was  no  mystery  in  the  case.  I 
was  welcome  to  explore  the  apartment,  and  there  was  the  key. 

Thus  provided,  I  returned  forthwith  to  the  door.  It  opened, 
as  I  had  surmised,  to  a  range  of  vacant  chambers ;  but  they 
were  quite  different  from  the  rest  of  the  palace.  The  architec- 
ture, though  rich  and  antiquated,  was  European.  There  was 


96  THE  MYSTERIOUS   CHAMBERS. 

nothing  Moorish  about  it.  The  first  two  rooms  were  lofty ;  the 
ceilings,  broken  in  many  places,  were  of  cedar,  deeply  panelled 
and  skilfully  carved  with  fruits  and  flowers,  intermingled  with 
grotesque  masks  or  faces. 

The  walls  had  evidently  in  ancient  times  been  hung  with 
damask ;  but  now  were  naked,  and  scrawled  over  by  that  class  of 
aspiring  travellers  who  defile  noble  monuments  with  their  worth- 
less names.  The  windows,  dismantled  and  open  to  wind  and 
weather,  looked  out  into  a  charming  little  secluded  garden,  where 
an  alabaster  fountain  sparkled  among  roses  and  myrtles,  and  wa3 
surrounded  by  orange  and  citron  trees,  some  of  which  flung 
their  branches  into  the  chambers.  Beyond  these  rooms  were  two 
saloons,  longer  but  less  lofty,  looking  also  into  the  garden.  In 
the  compartments  of  the  panelled  ceilings  were  baskets  of  fruit 
and  garlands  of  flowers,  painted  by  no  mean  hand,  and  in  toler- 
able preservation.  The  walls  also  had  been  painted  in  fresco  in 
the  Italian  style,  but  the  paintings  were  nearly  obliterated  ;  the 
windows  were  in  the  same  shattered  state  with  those  of  the 
other  chambers.  This  fanciful  suite  of  rooms  terminated  in  an 
open  gallery  with  balustrades,  running  at  right  angles  along 
another  side  of  the  garden.  The  whole  apartment,  so  delicate 
and  elegant  in  its  decorations,  so  choice  and  sequestered  in  its 
situation  along  this  retired  little  garden,  and  so  different  in 
architecture  from  the  neighboring  halls,  awakened  an  interest  in 
its  history.  I  found  on  inquiry  that  it  was  an  apartment  fitted 
up  by  Italian  artists  in  the  early  part  of  the  last  century,  at  the 
time  when  Philip  V.  and  his  second  wife,  the  beautiful  Elizabetta 
of  Farnese,  daughter  of  the  Duke  of  Parma,  were  expected  at 
the  Alhambra.  It  was  destined  for  the  queen  and  the  ladies  of 
her  train.  One  of  the  loftiest  chambers  had  been  her  sleeping 


LINDARAXA.  V I 

room.  A  narrow  staircase,  now  walled  up,  led  up  to  a  delightful 
belvidere,  originally  a  mirador  of  the  Moorish  sultanas,  commu- 
nicating with  the  harem ;  but  which  was  fitted  up  as  a  boudoir 
for  the  fair  Elizabetta,  and  still  retains  the  name  of  el  tocador  dc 
la  Re.yna,  or  the  queen's  toilette. 

One  window  of  the  royal  sleeping-room  commanded  a  prospect 
of  the  Generalife  and  its  embowered  terraces,  another  looked  out 
into  the  little  secluded  garden  I  have  mentioned,  which  was  decid- 
edly Moorish  in  its  character,  and  also  had  its  history.  Tt  was  in 
fact  the  garden  of  Lindaraxa,  so  often  mentioned  in  descriptions 
of  the  Alhambra;  but  who  this  Lindaraxa  was  I  had  never  heard 
explained.  A  little  research  gave  me  the  few  particulars  known 
about  her.  She  was  a  Moorish  beauty  who  flourished  in  the 
court  of  Muhamed  the  Left-Handed,  and  was  the  daughter  of  his 
loyal  adherent,  the  alcayde  of  Malaga,  who  sheltered  him  in  his 
city  when  driven  from  the  throne.  On  regaining  his  crown,  the 
alcayde  was  rewarded  for  his  fidelity.  His  daughter  had  her 
apartment  in  the  Alhambra,  and  was  given  by  the  king  in  mar- 
riage to  Nasar,  a  young  Cetimerien  prince  descended  from  Aben 
Hud  the  Just.  Their  espousals  were  doubtless  celebrated  in  the 
royal  palace,  and  their  honey-moon  may  have  passed  among  these 
very  bowers.* 

Four  centuries  had  elapsed  since  the  fair  Lindaraxa  passed 

*  Una  de  las  cosas  en  que  toenen  precisa  intervencion  los  Reyes  Moros 
as  en  el  matrimonio  de  sus  grandes:  de  aqui  nace  que  todos  los  senorcs 
llcgadas  a  la  persona  real  si  casan  en  palacio,  y  siempre  huvo  su  quarto  dea- 
tinado  para  esta  ceremonia. 

One  of  the  things  in  which  the  Moorish  kings  interfered  was  hi  the  mar- 
riage of  then*  nobles :  hence  it  came  that  all  the  senors  attached  to  the  royal 
person  were  married  in  the  palace  ;  and  there  was  always  a  chamber  destined 
for  the  ceremony. — Paseos  por  Granada,  Paseo  XXI. 


98  CHANGE    OF    QUARTERS. 

siway,  yet  Low  much  of  the  fragile  beauty  of  the  scenes  she 
inhabited  remained  !  The  garden  still  bloomed  in  which  she 
delighted ;  the  fountain  still  presented  the  crystal  mirror  in 
which  her  charms  may  once  have  been  reflected  ;  the  alabaster 
it  is  true,  had  lost  its  whiteness  :  the  basin  beneath,  overrun  with 
weeds,  had  become  the  lurking-place  of  the  lizard,  but  there  was 
something  in  the  very  decay  that  enhanced  the  interest  of  the 
scene,  speaking  as  it  did  of  that  mutability,  the  irrevocable  lot  of 
man  and  all  his  works. 

The  desolation  too  of  these  chambers,  once  the  abode  of  the 
proud  and  elegant  Elizabetta,  had  a  more  touching  charm  for  me 
than  if  I  had  beheld  them  in  their  pristine  splendor,  glittering 
with  the  pageantry  of  a  court. 

"When  I  returned  to  my  quarters,  in  the  governor's  apart- 
ment, every  thing  seemed  tame  and  common  place  after  the 
poetic  region  I  had  left.  The  thought  suggested  itself:  Why 
could  I  not  change  my  quarters  to  these  vacant  chambers  ?  that 
would  indeed  be  living  in  the  Alhambra,  surrounded  by  its  gar- 
dens and  fountains,  as  in  the  time  of  the  Moorish  sovereigns.  I 
proposed  the  change  to  Dame  Antonia  and  her  family,  and  it  oc- 
casioned vast  surprise,  They  could  not  conceive  any  rational 
inducement  for  the  choice  of  an  apartment  so  forlorn,  remote  and 
solitary.  Dolores  exclaimed  at  its  frightful  loneliness  ;  nothing 
but  bats  and  owls  flitting  about — and  then  a  fox  and  wild-cat 
kept  in  the  vaults  of  the  neighboring  baths,  and  roamed  about  at 
night.  The  good  Tia  had  more  reasonable  objections.  The 
neighborhood  was  infested  by  vagrants  ;  gipsies  swarmed  in  the 
caverns  of  the  adjacent  hills  ;  the  palace  was  ruinous  and  easy  to 
be  entered  in  many  places ;  the  rumor  of  a  stranger  quartered 
alone  in  one  of  the  remote  and  ruined  apartments,  out  of  the 


THE   FIEST   NIGHT.  99 

hearing  of  the  rest  of  the  inhabitants,  might  tempt  unwelcome 
visitors  in  the  night,  especially  as  foreigners  were  always  sup- 
posed to  bo  well  stocked  with  money.  I  was  not  to  be  diverted 
from  my  humor,  however,  and  my  will  was  law  with  these  good 
people.  So,  calling  in  the  assistance  of  a  carpenter,  and  the  ever 
officious  Mateo  Xemenes,  the  doors  and  windows  were  soon 
placed  in  a  state  of  tolerable  security,  and  the  sleeping-room  o$ 
tiie  stately  Elizabetta  prepared  for  my  reception.  Mateo  kindly 
volunteered  as  a  body-guard  to  sleep  in  my  antechamber ;  but  I 
did  not  .think  it  worth  while  to  put  his  valor  to  the  proof. 

With  all  the  hardihood  I  had  assumed  and  all  the  precautions 
I  had  taken,  I  must  confess  the  first  night  passed  in  these  quar- 
ters was  inexpressibly  dreary.  I  do  not  think  it  was  so  much 
the  apprehension  of  dangers  from  without  that  affected  me,  as 
the  character  of  the  place  itself,  with  all  its  strange  associations  : 
the  deeds  of  violence  committed  there  ;  the  tragical  ends  of  many 
of  those  who  had  once  reigned  there  in  splendor.  As  I  passed 
beneath  the  fated  halls  of  the  tower  of  Comares  on  the  way  to 
my  chamber,  I  called  to  mind  a  quotation,  that  used  to  thrill 
me  in  the  day's  of  boyhood : 

Fate  sits  on  these  dark  battlements  and  frowns ; 
And,  as  the  portal  opens  to  receive  me, 
A.  voice  in  sullen  echoes  through  the  courts 
Tells  of  a  nameless  deed  ! 

The  whole  family  escorted  me  to  my  chamber,  and  iook  leave 
of  me  as  of  one  engaged  on  a  perilous  enterprise  ;  and  when  1 
heard  their  retreating  steps  die  away  along  the  waste  antecham- 
bers and  echoing  galleries ;  and  turned  the  key  of  my  door,  I  was 
reminded  of  those  hobgoblin  stories,  where  the  hero  is  left  to 
accomplish  the  adventure  of  an  enchanted  house. 


100  FANCIES  OF  THE  NIGHT. 

Even  the  thoughts  of  the  fair  Elizabetta  and  the  beauties  of 
her  court,  who  had  once  graced  these  chambers,  now,  by  a  per- 
version of  fancy,  added  to  the  gloom.  Here  was  the  scene  of 
their  transient  gayety  and  loveliness  ;  here  were  the  very  traces 
of  their  elegance  and  enjoyment :  but  what  and  where  were  they  1 
— Dust  and  ashes  !  tenants  of  the  tomb  !  phantoms  of  the  memory ! 

A  vague  and  indescribable  awe  was  creeping  over  me.  I 
would  fain  have  ascribed  it  to  the  thoughts  of  robbers  awakened 
by  the  evening's  conversation,  but  I  felt  it  was  something  more 
unreal  and  absurd.  The  long-buried  superstitions  of  the  nursery 
were  reviving,  and  asserting  their  power  over  my  imagination. 
Every  thing  began  to  be  affected  by  the  working  of  my  mind. 
The  whispering  of  the  wind,  among  the  citron-trees  beneath  my 
window,  had  something  sinister.  I  cast  my  eyes  into  the  garden 
of  Lindaraxa  ;  the  groves  presented  a  gulf  of  shadows ;  the 
thickets,  indistinct  and  ghastly  shapes.  I  was  glad  to  close  the 
window,  but  my  chamber  itself  became  infected.  There  was  a 
slight  rustling  noise  overhead  ;  a  bat  suddenly  emerged  from  a 
broken  panel  of  the  ceiling,  flitting  about  the  room  and  athwart 
my  solitary  lamp ;  and  as  the  fateful  bird  almost  flouted  my 
face  with  his  noiseless  wing,  the  grotesque  faces  carved  in  high 
relief  in  the  cedar  ceiling,  whence  he  had  emerged,  seemed  to 
mope  and  mow  at  me. 

Rousing  myself,  and  half  smiling  at  this  temporary  weak- 
ness, I  resolved  to  brave  it  out  in  the  true  spirit  of  the  hero  of 
the  enchanted  house ;  so,  taking  lamp  in  hand,  I  sallied  forth  to 
make  a  tour  of  the  palace.  Notwithstanding  every  mental  exer- 
tion the  task  was  a  severe  one.  I  had  to  traverse  waste  halls 
and  mysterious  galleries,  where  the  rays  of  the  lamp  extended 
but  a  short  distance  around  me.  I  walked,  as  it  were,  in  a  meru 


NIGHT   WALKING.  101 

halo  of  light,  walled  in  by  impenetrable  darkness.  The  vaulted 
corridors  were  as  caverns ;  the  ceilings  of  the  halls  were  lost  in 
gloom.  I  recalled  all  that  had  been  said  of  the  danger  from 
interlopers  in  these  remote  and  ruined  apartments.  Might  not 
some  vagrant  foe  be  lurking  before  or  behind  me,  in  the  outer 
darkness  ?  My  own  shadow,  cast  upon  the  wall,  began  to  disturb 
me.  The  echoes  of  my  own  footsteps  along  the  corridors  made 
me  pause  and  look  round.  I  was  traversing  scenes  fraught  with 
dismal  recollections.  One  dark  passage  led  down  to  the  mosque 
where  Yusef,  the  Moorish  monarch,  the  finisher  of  the  Alhambra, 
had  been  basely  murdered.  In  another  place,  I  trod  the  gallery 
where  another  monarch  had  been  struck  down  by  the  poniard  of  a- 
relative  whom  he  had  thwarted  in  his  love. 

A  low  murmuring  sound,  as  of  stifled  voices  and  clanking 
chains,  now  reached  me.  It  seemed  to  come  from  the  Hall  of 
the  Abencerrages.  I  knew  it  to  be  the  rush  of  water  through 
subterranean  channels,  but  it  sounded  strangely  in  the  night 
and  reminded  me  of  the  dismal  stories  to  which  it  had  given 
rise. 

Soon,  however,  my  ear  was  assailed  by  sounds  too  fearfully 
real  to  be  the  work  of  fancy.  As  I  was  crossing  the  Hall  of 
Ambassadors,  low  moans  and  broken  ejaculations  rose,  as  it  were, 
from  beneath  my  feet.  I  paused  and  listened.  They  then  ap- 
peared to  be  outside  of  the  tower — then  again  within.  Then 
broke  forth  howlings  as  of  an  animal — then  stifled  shrieks  and 
inarticulate  ravings.  Heard  in  that  dead  hour  and  singular 
place,  the  effect  was  thrilling.  I  had  no  desire  for  further  per- 
ambulation ;  but  returned  to  my  chamber  with  infinitely  more 
alacrity  than  I  had  sallied  forth,  and  drew  my  breath  more  freely 
when  once  more  within  its  walls  and  the  door  bolted  behind  me. 


102          THE  ALHAMBEA  BY  MOONLIGHT. 

When  1  awoke  in  the  morning,  with  the  sun  shining  in  at  my 
window  and  lighting  up  every  part  of  the  building  with  his 
cheerful  and  truth-telling  beams,  I  could  scarcely  recall  the  sha- 
dows and  fancies  conjured  up  by  the  gloom  of  the  preceding 
night ;  or  believe  that  the  scenes  around  me,  so  naked  and  ap 
parent,  could  have  been  clothed  with  such  imaginary  horrors. 

Still,  the  dismal  howlings  and  ejaculations  I  had  heard  were 
not  ideal;  they  were  soon  accounted  for,  however,  by  my  handmaid 
Dolores :  being  the  ravings  of  a  poor  maniac,  a  brother  of  her 
aunt,  who  was  subject  to  violent  paroxysms,  during  which  he  was 
confined  in  a  vaulted  room  beneath  the  Hall  of  Ambassadors. 

In  the  course  of  a  few  evenings  a  thorough  change  took 
place  in  the  scene  and  its  associations.  The  moon,  which  when 
I  took  possession  of  my  new  apartments  was  invisible,  gradually 
gained  each  evening  upon  the  darkness  of  the  night,  and 
at  length  rolled  in  full  splendor  above  the  towers,  pouring  a 
flood  of  tempered  light  into  every  court  and  hall.  The  garden 
beneath  my  window,  before  wrapped  in  gloom,  was  gently  lighted 
up,  the  orange  and  citron  trees  were  tipped  with  silver  ;  the 
fountain  sparkled  in  the  moonbeams,  and  even  the  blush  of  the 
rose  was  faintly  visible. 

I  now  felt  the  poetic  merit  of  the  Arabic  inscription  on  the 
walls  :  "  How  beauteous  is  this  garden  ;  where  the  flowers  of  the 
earth  vie  with  the  stars  of  heaven.  What  can  compare  with  the 
vase  of  yon  alabaster  fountain  filled  with  crystal  water  ?  nothing 
but  the  moon  in  her  fulness,  shining  in  the  midst  of  an  unclouded 
sky  !" 

On  such  heavenly  nights  I  would  sit  for  hours  at  my  window 
inhaling  the  sweetness  of  the  garden,  and  musing  on  the 
checkered  fortunes  of  those  whose  history  was  dimly  shadowed 


THE  ALHAMBRA  BY  MOONLIGHT.  103 

cut  in  the  elegant  memorials  around.  Sometimes,  when  all  was 
quiet,  and  the  clock  from  the  distant  cathedral  of  Granada  struck 
the  midnight  hour,  I  have  sallied  out  on  another  toui  and  wan- 
dered over  the  whole  building  ;  but  how  different  from  my  first 
tour  !  No  longer  dark  and  mysterious  ;  no  longer  peopled  with 
shadowy  foes ;  no  longer  recalling  scenes  of  violence  and  mur 
der  j  all  was  open,  spacious,  beautiful ;  every  thing  called  up 
pleasing  and  romantic  fancies  ;  Lindaraxa  once  more  walked  in 
her  garden  ;  the  gay  chivalry  of  Moslem  Granada  once  more 
glittered  about  the  Court  of  Lions  !  Who  can  do  justice  to  a 
moonlight  night  in  such  a  climate  and  such  a  place?  The  tem- 
perature of  a  summer  midnight  in  Andalusia  is  perfectly 
ethereal.  "We  seem  lifted  up  into  a  purer  atmosphere ;  we  feel 
a  serenity  of  soul,  a  buoyancy  of  spirits,  an  elasticity  of  frame, 
which  render  mere  existence  happiness.  But  when  moonlight  is 
added  to  all  this,  the  effect  is  like  enchantment.  Under  its 
plastic  sway  the  Alhambra  seems  to  regain  its  pristine  glories. 
Every  rent  and  chasm  of  time ;  every  mouldering  tint  and 
weather-stain  is  gone  ;  the  marble  resumes  its  original  white- 
ness ;  the  long  colonnades  brighten  in  the  moonbeams  ;  the  halls 
are  illuminated  with  a  softened  radiance, — we  tread  the  enchant- 
ed palace  of  an  Arabian  tale  ! 

What  a  delight,  at  such  a  time,  to  ascend  to  the  little  airy 
pavilion  of  the  queen's  toilet  (el  tocador  de  la  reyna),  which, 
like  a  bird-cage,  overhangs  the  valley  of  the  Darro,  and  gaze 
from  its  light  arcades  upon  the  moonlight  prospect !  To  the 
right,  the  swelling  mountains  of  the  Sierra  Nevada,  robbed  of 
their  ruggedness  and  softened  into  a  fairy  land,  with  their 
snowy  summits  gleaming  like  silver  clouds  against  the  deep 
blue  sky.  And  then  to  lean  over  the  parapet  of  the  Tocador  and 


104:  THE   ALHAMBRA    BY    MOONLIGHT. 

gaze  down  upon  Granada  and  the  Albaycin  spread  out  like  a  map 
below ;  all  buried  in  deep  repose  ;  the  white  palaces  and  convents 
sleeping  in  the  moonshine,  and  beyond  all  these  the  vapory 
Vega  fading  away  like  a  dream-land  in  the  distance. 

Sometimes  the  faint  click  of  castanets  rise  from  the  Ala- 
jneda,  where  some  gay  Andalusians  are  dancing  away  the  summer 
night.  Sometimes  the  dubious  tones  of  a  guitar  and  the  notes  of 
an  amorous  voice,  tell  perchance  the  whereabout  of  some  moon- 
struck lover  serenading  his  lady's  window. 

Such  is  a  faint  picture  of  the  moonlight  nights  I  have  passed 
loitering  about  the  courts  and  halls  and  balconies  of  this  most 
suggestive  pile  ;  "  feeding  my  fancy  with  sugared  suppositions," 
and  enjoying  that  mixture  of  reverie  and  sensation  which  steal 
away  existence  in  a  southern  climate ;  so  that  it  has  been  almost 
morning  before  I  have  retired  to  bed,  and  been  lulled  to  sleep 
by  the  falling  waters  of  the  fountain  of  Lindaraxa. 


PANORAMA  FROM  THE  TOWER  OF  COMARES. 

IT  is  a  serene  and  beautiful  morning :  the  sun  has  not  gained 
sufficient  power  to  destroy  the  freshness  of  the  night.  "What  a 
morning  to  mount  to  the  summit  of  the  Tower  of  Comares,  and 
take  a  bird's-eye  view  of  Granada  and  its  environs  ! 

Come  then,  worthy  reader  and  comrade,  follow  my  steps  into 
this  vestibule,  ornamented  with  rich  tracery,  which  opens  into 
the  Hall  of  Ambassadors.  We  will  not  enter  the  hall,  however, 
but  turn  to  this  small  door  opening  into  the  wall.  Have  a  care  ! 
here  are  steep  winding  steps  and  but  scanty  light ;  yet  up  this 
narrow,  obscure,  and  spiral  staircase,  the  proud  monarchs  of 
Granada  and  their  queens  have  often  ascended  to  the  battlements 
to  watch  the  approach  of  invading  armies,  or  gaze  with  anxious 
hearts  on  the  battles  in  the  Yega. 

At  length  we  have  reached  the  terraced  roof,  and  may  take 
breath  for  a  moment,  while  we  cast  a  general  eye  over  the  splen- 
did panorama  of  city  and  country ;  of  rocky  mountain,  verdant 
valley,  and  fertile  plain ;  of  castle,  cathedral,  Moorish  towers,  and 
Gothic  domes,  crumbling  ruins,  and  bloomiDg  groves.  Let  us 
approach  the  battlements,  and  cast  our  eyes  immediately  below. 
Sec,  on  this  side  we  have  the  whole  plain  of  the  Alhambra  laid 
open  to  us,  and  can  look  down  into  its  courts  and  gardens.  At 


106  THE  VALLEY  OF  THE  DAKRO. 

the  foot  of  the  tower  is  the  Court  of  the  Alberca,  with  its  great 
tank  or  fishpool,  bordered  with  flowers  ;  and  yonder  is  the  Court 
of  Lions,  with  its  famous  fountain,  and  its  light  Moorish  arcades ; 
and  in  the  centre  of  the  pile  is  the  little  garden  of  Lindaraxa, 
buried  in  the  heart  of  the  building,  with  its  roses  and  citrous 
and  shrubbery  of  emerald  green. 

That  belt  of  battlements,  studded  with  square  towers,"strag« 
gling  round  the  whole  brow  of  the  hill,  is  the  outer  boundary  of 
the  fortress.  Some  of  the  towers,  you  may  perceive,  are  in 
ruins,  and  their  massive  fragments  buried  among  vines,  fig-trees 
and  aloes. 

Let  us  look  on  this  northern  side  of  the  tower.  It  is  a  giddy 
height ;  the  very  foundations  of  the  tower  rise  above  the  groves 
of  the  steep  hill-side.  And  see !  a  long  fissure  in  the  massive 
walls,  shows  that  the  tower  has  been  rent  by  some  of  the  earth- 
quakes, which  from  time  to  time  have  thrown  Granada  into  con- 
sternation ;  and  which,  sooner  or  later,  must  reduce  this  crum- 
bling pile  to  a  mere  mass  of  ruin.  The  deep  narrow  glen  below 
us,  which  gradually  widens  as  it  opens  from  the  mountains,  is 
the  valley  of  the  Darro ;  you  see  the  little  river  winding  its  way 
under  imbowered  terraces,  and  among  orchards  and  flower-gar- 
dens. It  is  a  stream  famous  in  old  times  for  yielding  gold,  and 
its  sands  are  still  sifted  occasionally,  in  search  of  the  precious 
ore.  Some  of  those  white  pavilions,  which  here  and  there  gleam 
from  among  groves  and  vineyards,  were  rustic  retreats  of  the 
Moors,  to  enjoy  the  refreshment  of  their  gardens.  Well  have  they 
been  compared  by  one  of  their  poets  to  so  many  pearls  set  in  a 
bed  of  emeralds. 

The  airy  palace,  with  its  tall  white  towers  and  long  arcades, 
which  breasts  yon  mountain,  among  pompous  groves  and  hang- 


THE  FOUNTAIN  OF  TEAKS.  107 

ing  gardens,  is  the  Generalife,  a  summer  palace  of  the  Moorish 
kings,  to  which  they  resorted  during  the  sultry  months  to 
enjoy  a  still  more  breezy  region  than  that  of  the  Alhambra. 
The  naked  summit  of  the  height  above  it,  where  you  behold 
some  shapeless  ruins,  is  the  Silla  del  Moro,  or  Seat  of  the  Moor 
so  called  from  having  been  a  retreat  of  the  unfortunate  Boab 
dil  during  the  time  of  an  insurrection,  where  he  seated  himself, 
and  looked  down  mournfully  upon  his  rebellious  city. 

A  murmuring  sound  of  water  now  and  then  rises  from  the 
valley.  It  is  from  the  aqueduct  of  yon  Moorish  mill,  nearly 
at  the  foot  of  the  hill.  The  avenue  of  trees  beyond  is  the 
Alameda,  along  the  bank  of  the  Darro,  a  favorite  resort  in  even- 
ings, and  a  rendezvous  of  lovers  in  the  summer  nights,  when 
the  guitar  may  be  heard  at  a  late  hour  from  the  benches  along 
its  walks.  At  present  you  see  none  but  a  few  loitering  monks 
there,  and  a  group  of  water-carriers.  The  latter  are  burdened 
with  water  jars  of  ancient  Oriental  construction,  such  as  were 
used  by  the  Moors.  They  have  been  filled  at  the  cold  and 
limpid  spring  called  the  fountain  of  Avellanos.  Yon  mountain 
path  leads  to  the  fountain,  a  favorite  resort  of  Moslems  as  well  as 
Christians  ;  for  this  is  said  to  be  the  Adinamar  (Aynu-1-adamar), 
the  "  Fountain  of  Tears,"  mentioned  by  Ibn  Batuta  the  traveller, 
and  celebrated  in  the  histories  and  romances  of  the  Moors. 

You  start !  'tis  nothing  but  a  hawk  that  we  have  frightened 
from  his  nest.  This  old  tower  is  a  complete  breeding-place 
for  vagrant  birds ;  the  swallow  and  martlet  abound  in  every 
chink  and  cranny,  and  circle  about  it  the  whole  day  long ;  while 
at  night,  when  all  other  birds  have  gone  to  rest,  the  moping  owl 
conjes  out  of  its  lurking-place,  and  utters  its  boding  cry  from 
the  battlements.  See  how  the  hawk  we  have  dislodged  sweeps 


108  THE   SIERKA    NEVADA. 

away  below  us,  skimming  over  the  tops  of  the  trees,  and  sailing 
up  to  the  ruins  above  the  Generalife  ! 

I  see  you  raise  your  eyes  to  the  snowy  summit  of  yon  pile  of 
mountains,  shining  like  a  white  summer  cloud  in  the  blue  sky. 
It  is  the  Sierra  Nevada,  the  pride  and  delight  of  Granada  :  the 
ource  of  her  cooling  breezes  and  perpetual  verdure ;  of  her  gush- 
ing fountains  and  perennial  streams.  It  is  this  glorious  pile  of 
mountains  which  gives  to  Granada  that  combination  of  delights 
so  rare  in  a  southern  city :  the  fresh  vegetation  and  temperate 
airs  of  a  northern  climate,  with  the  vivifying  ardor  of  a  tropical 
sun,  and  the  cloudless  azure  of  a  southern  sky.  It  is  this  aerial 
treasury  of  snow,  which,  melting  in  proportion  to  the  increase  of 
the  summer  heat,  sends  down  rivulets  and  streams  through  every 
glen  and  gorge  of  the  Alpuxarras,  diffusing  emerald  verdure  and 
fertility  throughout  a  chain  of  happy  and  sequestered  valleys. 

Those  mountains  may  be  well  called  the  glory  of  Granada. 
They  dominate  the  whole  extent  of  Andalusia,  and  may  be  seen 
from  its  most  distant  parts.  The  muleteer  hails  them,  as  he 
views  their  frosty  peaks  from  the  sultry  level  of  the  plain  ;  and 
the  Spanish  mariner  on  the  deck  of  his  bark,  far,  far  off  on  the 
bosom  of  the  blue  Mediterranean,  watches  them  with  a  pensive 
eye,  thinks  of  delightful  Granada,  and  chants,  in  low  voice,  some 
old  romance  about  the  Moors. 

See  to  the  south  at  the  foot  of  those  mountains  a  line  of  arid 
hills,  down  which  a  long  train  of  mules  is  slowly  moving.  Hero 
was  the  closing  scene  of  Moslem  domination.  From  the  sum- 
mit of  one  of  those  hills  the  unfortunate  Boabdil  cast  back  his 
last  look  upon  Granada,  and  gave  vent  to  the  agony  of  his 
soul.  It  is  the  spot  famous  in  song  and  story,  "  The  last  sigh  of 
the  Moor." 


SANTA   FE.  109 

Further  this  way  these  arid  hills  slope  down  into  the  luxu- 
rious Vega,  from  which  he  had  just  emerged  :  a  blooming  wilder- 
ness of  grove  and  garden,  and  teeming  orchard,  with  the  Xenil 
winding  through  it  in  silver  links,  and  feeding  innumerable  rills  ; 
which,  conducted  through  ancient  Moorish  channels,  maintain  the 
landscape  in  perpetual  verdure.  Here  were  the  beloved  bowers 
and  gardens,  and  rural  pavilions,  for  which  the  unfortunate  Moors 
fought  with  such  desperate  valor.  The  very  hovels  and  rude 
granges,  now  inhabited  by  boors,  show,  by  the  remains  of  ara- 
besques and  other  tasteful  decoration,  that  they  were  elegant  resi- 
dences in  the  days  of  the  Moslems.  Behold,  in  the  very  centre 
of  this  eventful  plain,  a  place  which  in  a  manner  links  the  history 
of  the  Old  World  with  that  of  the  New.  Yon  line  of  walls  and 
towers  gleaming  in  the  morning  sun,  is  the  city  of  Santa  Fe, 
built  by  the  Catholic  sovereigns  during  the  siege  of  Granada, 
after  a  conflagration  had  destroyed  their  camp.  It  was  to  these 
walls  Columbus  was  called  back  by  the  heroic  queen,  and  within 
them  the  treaty  was  concluded  which  led  to  the  discovery  of  the 
Western  World.  Behind  yon  promontory  to  the  west  is  the 
bridge  of  Pinos,  renowned  for  many  a  bloody  fight  between  Moors 
and  Christians.  At  this  bridge  the  messenger  overtook  Colum- 
bus when,  despairing  of  success  with  the  Spanish  sovereigns,  he 
was  departing  to  carry  his  project  of  discovery  to  the  court  of 
France. 

Above  the  bridge  a  range  of  mountains  bounds  the  Vega  to 
the  west :  the  ancient  barrier  between  Granada  and  the  Chris- 
tian territories.  Among  their  heights  you  may  still  discern 
warrior  towns ;  their  gray  walls  and  battlements  seeming  of  a 
piece  with  the  rocks  on  which  they  are  built.  Here  and  there  a 
solitary  atalaya,  or  watchtower,  perched  on  a  mountain  peak, 
5* 


110  ISMAEL   BEN   FEKRAG. 

looks  down  as  it  were  from  the  sky  into  the  valley  on  either  side 
How  often  have  these  atalayas  given  notice,  by  fire  at  night  01 
smoke  by  day,  of  an  approaching  foe  !  It  was  down  a  cragged 
defile  of  these  mountains,  called  the  Pass  of  Lope,  that  the 
Christian  armies  descended  into  the  Vega.  Round  the  base  of 
yon  gray  and  naked  mountain  (the  mountain  of  Elvira),  stretch- 
ing its  bold  rocky  promontory  into  the  bosom  of  the  plain,  the 
invading  squadrons  would  come  bursting  into  view,  with  flaunting 
banners  and  clangor  of  drum  and  trumpet. 

Five  hundred  years  have  elapsed  since  Ismael  ben  Ferrag,  a 
Moorish  king  of  Granada,  beheld  from  this  very  tower  an  inva- 
sion of  the  kind,  and  an  insulting  ravage  of  the  Vega  ;  on  which 
occasion  he  displayed  an  instance  of  chivalrous  magnanimity, 
often  witnessed  in  the  Moslem  princes ;  "  whose  history,"  says 
an  Arabian  writer,  "  abounds  in  generous  actions  and  noble 
deeds  that  will  last  through  all  succeeding  ages,  and  live  for  ever 
in  the  memory  of  man." — But  let  us  sit  down  on  this  parapet 
and  I  will  relate  the  anecdote. 

It  was  in  the  year  of  Grace  1319,  that  Ismael  ben  Ferrag 
beheld  from  this  tower  a  Christian  camp  whitening  the  skirts  of 
yon  mountain  of  Elvira.  The  royal  princes,  Don  Juan  and  Don 
Pedro,  regents  of  Castile  during  the  minority  of  Alfonso  XI., 
had  already  laid  waste  the  country  from  Alcaudete  to  Alcala  la 
Real,  capturing  the  castle  of  Illora  and  setting  fire  to  its  suburbs, 
and  they  now  carried  their  insulting  ravages  to  the  very  gates  of 
Granada,  defying  the  king  to  sally  forth  and  give  them  battle. 

Ismael,  though  a  young  and  intrepid  prince,  hesitated  to 
accept  the  challenge.  He  had  n<jt  sufficient  force  at  hand,  and 
awaited  the  arrival  of  troops  summoned  from  the  neighboring 
towns.  The  Christian  princes,  mistaking  his  motives,  gave  up 


ISMAEL   BEN   FERRAG.  Ill 

all  hope  of  drawing  him  forth,  and  having  glutted  themselves 
with  ravage,  struck  their  tents  and  began  their  homeward  march. 
Don  Pedro  led  the  van,  and  Don  Juan  brought  up  the  rear,  but 
their  march  was  confused  and  irregular,  the  army  being  greatly 
encumbered  by  the  spoils  and  captives  they  had  taken. 

By  this  time  King  Ismael  had  received  his  expected  rc- 
Gources,  and  putting  them  under  the  command  of  Osmyn,  one  of 
the  bravest  of  his  generals,  sent  them  forth  in  hot  pursuit  of 
the  enemy.  The  Christians  were  overtaken  in  the  defiles  of  the 
mountains.  A  panic  seized  them  ;  they  were  completely  routed, 
and  driven  with  great  slaughter  across  the  borders.  Both  of  the 
princes  lost  their  lives.  The  body  of  Don  Pedro  was  carried  off 
by  his  soldiers,  but  that  of  Don  Juan  was  lost  in  the  darkness  of 
the  night.  His  son  wrote  to  the  Moorish  king,  entreating  that 
the  body  of  his  father  might  be  sought  and  honorably  treated. 
Ismael  forgot  in  a  moment  that  Don  Juan  was  an  enemy,  who 
had  carried  ravage  and 'insult  to  the  very  gate  of  his  capital;  he 
only  thought  of  him  as  a  gallant  cavalier  and  a  royal  prince.  By 
his  command  diligent  search  was  made  for  the  body.  It  was 
found  in  a  barranco  and  brought  to  Granada.  There  Ismael 
caused  it  to  be  laid  out  in  state  on  a  lofty  bier,  surrounded  by 
torches  and  tapers,  in  one  of  these  halls  of  the  Alhambra.  Osmyn 
and  other  of  the  noblest  cavaliers  were  appointed  as  a  guard 
of  honor,  and  the  Christian  captives  were  assembled  to  pray 
around  it. 

In  the  mean  time,  Ismael  wrote  to  the  son  of  Prince  Juan  to 
send  a  convoy  for  the  body,  assuring  him  it  should  be  faithfully 
delivered  up.  In  due  time,  a  band  of  Christian  cavaliers  arrived 
for  the  purpose.  They  were  honorably  received  and  entertained 
by  Ismael,  and,  on  their  departure  with  the  body,  the  guard  of 


112  ISMAEL  BEN  FEKRAG. 

lionor  of  Moslem  cavaliers  escorted  the  funeral  train  to  the 
frontier. 

But  enough — the  sun  is  high  above  the  mountains,  and  pours 
his  full  fervor  on  our  heads.  Already  the  terraced  roof  is  hot 
beneath  our  feet ;  let  us  abandon  it,  and  refresh  ourselves  under 
the  Arcades  by  the  Fountain  of  the  Lionfi. 


THE  TRUANT. 

WE  have  had  a  SCCDC  of  a  petty  tribulation  in  the  Alhambra, 
which  has  thrown  a  cloud  over  the  sunny  countenance  of  Dolores. 
This  little  damsel  has  a  female  passion  for  pets  of  all  kinds,  and 
from  the  superabundant  kindness  of  her  disposition  one  of  t.iie 
ruined  courts  of  the  Alhambra  is  thronged  with  her  favorites.  A 
stately  peacock  and  his  hen  seem  to  hold  regal  sway  here,  over 
pompous  turkeys,  querulous  guinea-fowls,  and  a  rabble  rout  of 
common  cocks  and  hens.  The  great  delight  of  Dolores,  however, 
has  for  some  time  past  been  centred  in  a  youthful  pair  of  pigeons, 
who  have  lately  entered  into  the  holy  state  of  wedlock,  and  even 
supplanted  a  tortoise-shell  cat  and  kittens  in  her  affections. 

As  a  tenement  for  them  wherein  to  commence  housekeeping, 
she  had  fitted  up  a  small  chamber  adjacent  to  the  kitchen,  the 
window  of  which  looked  into  one  of  the  quiet  Moorish  courts. 
Here  they  lived  in  happy  ignorance  of  any  world  beyond  the  court 
and  its  sunny  roofs.  Never  had  they  aspired  to  soar  above  the 
battlements,  or  to  mount  to  the  summit  of  the  towers.  Their 
virtuous  union  was  at  length  crowned  by  two  spotless  and  milk 
white  eggs,  to  the  great  joy  of  their  cherishing  little  mistress. 
Nothing  could  be  more  praiseworthy  than  the  conduct  of  th« 
young  married  folks  on  this  interesting  occasion.  They  took 


114  THE   TRUANT. 

turns  to  sit  upon  the  nest  until  the  eggs  were  hatched,  and  while 
their  callow  progeny  required  warmth  and  shelter  5  while  one 
thus  stayed  at  home,  the  other  foraged  abroad  for  food,  and  brought 
home  abundant  supplies. 

This  scene  of  conjugal  felicity  has  suddenly  met  with  a  re- 
verse. Early  this  morning,  as  Bblores  was  feeding  the  malo 
pigeon,  she  took  a  fancy  to  give  him  a  peep  at  the  great  world. 
Opening  a  window,  therefore,  which  looks  down  upon  the  valley 
of  the  Darro.  she  launched  him  at  once  beyond  the  walls  of  the 
Alhambra.  For  the  first  time  in  his  life  the' astonished  bird  had 
to  try  the  full  vigor  of  his  wings.  He  swept  down  into  the  valley, 
and  then  rising  upwards  with  a  surge,  soared  almost  to  the  clouds. 
Never  before  had  he  risen  to  such  a  height,  or  experienced  such 
delight  in  flying ;  and,  like  a  young  spendthrift  just  come  to  his 
estate,  he  seemed  giddy  with  excess  of  liberty,  and  with  the  bound- 
less field  of  action  suddenly  opened  to  him.  For  the  whole  day 
he  has  been  circling  about  in  capricious  flights,  from  tower  to 
tower,  and  tree  to  tree.  Every  attempt  has  been  vain  to  lure 
him  back  by  scattering  grain  upon  the  roofs ;  he  seems  to  have 
lost  all  thought  of  home,  of  his  tender  helpmate,  and  his  callow 
young.  To  add  to  the  anxiety  of  Dolores,  he  has  been  joined  by 
two  palomas  ladrones,  or  robber  pigeons,  whose  instinct  it  is  to 
entice  wandering  pigeons  to  their  own  dovecotes.  The  fugitive> 
like  many  other  thoughtless  youths  on  their  first  launching  upon 
the  world,  seems  quite  fascinated  with  these  knowing  but  grace- 
less companions,  who  have  undertaken  to  show  him  life,  and  intro- 
duce him  to  society.  He  has  been  soaring  with  them  over  all  the 
roofs  and  steeples  of  Granada.  A  thunder-storm  has  passed  over 
the  city,  but  he  has  not  sought  his  home ;  night  has  closed  in,  and 
still  he  comes  not.  To  deepen  the  pathos  of  the  affair,  the  female 


THE   TRUANT.  115 

pigeon,  after  remaining  several  hours  on  the  nest  without  being 
relieved,  at  length  went  forth  to  seek  her  recreant  mate  ;  but 
stayed  away  so  long  that  the  young  ones  perished  for  want  of  the 
warmth  and  shelter  of  the  parent  bosom.  At  a  late  hour  in  the 
evening,  word  was  brought  to  Dolores,  that  the  truant  bird  had 
been  seen  upon  the  towers  of  the  Generalife.  Now  it  happens 
that  the  Administration  of  that  ancient  palace  has  likewise  a  dove- 
cote,  among  the  inmates  of  which  are  said  to  be  two  or  three  of 
these  inveigling  birds,  the  terror  of  all  neighboring  pigeon-fan- 
ciers. Dolores  immediately  concluded,  that  the  two  feathered 
sharpers  who  had  been  seen  with  her  fugitive,  were  these  bloods 
of  the  Generalife.  A  council  of  war  was  forthwith  held  in  the 
chamber  of  Tia  Antonia  The  Generalife  is  a  distinct  jurisdic- 
tion from  the  Alhambra,  and  of  course  some  punctilio,  if  not  jea- 
lousy, exists  between  their  custodians.  It  was  determined,  there- 
fore, to  send  Pepe,  the  stuttering  lad  of  the  gardens,  as  ambassador 
to  the  Administrador,  requesting  that  if  such  fugitive  should  bo 
found  in  his  dominions,  he  might  be  given  up  as  a  subject  of  the 
Alhambra.  Pepe  departed  accordingly,  on  his  diplomatic  expe- 
dition, through  the  moonlit  groves  and  avenues,  but  returned 
in  an  hour  with  the  afflicting  intelligence  that  no  such  bird  was 
to  be  found  in  the  dovecote  of  the  Generalife.  The  Administra- 
dor, however,  pledged  his  sovereign  word  that  if  such  vagrant 
should  appear  there,  even  at  midnight,  he  should  instantly  be 
arrested^  and  sent  back  prisoner  to  his  little  black-eyed  mistress. 

Thus  stands  the  melancholy  affair,  which  has  occasioned  much 
distress  throughout  the  palace,  and  has  sent  the  inconsolable 
Dolores  to  a  sleepless  pillow. 

"Sorrow  endureth  for  a  night,"  says  the  proverb,  "  but 

joy  cometh  in  the  morning."  The  first  object  that  met  my  eyes, 


116  THE   TRUANT, 

on  leaving  my  room  this  morning,  was  Dolores,  with  the  truant 
pigeon  in  her  hands,  and  her  eyes  sparkling  with  joy.  He  had 
appeared  at  an  early  hour  on  the  battlements,  hovering  shyly 
about  from  roof  to  roof,  but  at  length  entered  the  window,  and 
surrendered  himself  prisoner.  He  gained  little  credit,  however, 
by  his  return ;  for  the  ravenous  manner  in  which  he  devoured  the 
food  set  before  him  showed  that,  like  the  prodigal  son,  he  had  been 
driven  home  by  sheer  famine.  Dolores  upbraided  him  for  his 
faithless  conduct,  calling  him  all  manner  of  vagrant  names,  though, 
woman-like,  she  fondled  him  at  the  same  time  to  her  bosom,  and 
covered  him  with  kisses.  I  observed,  however,  that  she  had  taken 
care  to  clip  his  wings  to  prevent  all  fufcire  soarings ;  a  precaution 
which  I  mention  for  the  benefit  of  all  those  who  have  truant 
lovers  or  wandering  husbands.  More  than  one  valuable  moral 
might  be  drawn  from  the  story  of  Dolores  and  her  pigeon. 


THE  BALCONT. 

I  HAVE  spoken  of  a  balcony  of  the  central  window  of  the  Hall  of 
Ambassadors.  It  served  as  a  kind  of  observatory,  where  I  used 
often  to  take  my  seat,  and  consider  not  merely  the  heaven  above 
but  the  earth  beneath.  Besides  the  magnificent  prospect  which 
it  commanded  of  mountain,  valley,  and  vega,  there  was  a  little 
busy  scene  of  human  life  laid  open  to  inspection  immediately 
below.  At  the  foot  of  the  hill  was  an  alameda,  or  public  walk, 
which,  though  not  so  fashionable  as  the  more  modern  and  splen- 
did paseo  of  the  Xenil,  still  boasted  a  varied  and  picturesque 
concourse.  Hither  resorted  the  small  gentry  of  the  suburbs^ 
together  with  priests  and  friars,  who  walked  for  appetite  and 
digestion ;  majos  and  majas,  the  beaux  and  belles  of  the  lower 
classes,  ia their  Andalusiau  dresses;  swaggering  contrabandistas. 
and  sometimes  half-muffled  and  mysterious  loungers  of  the  higher 
ranks,  on  some  secret  assignation. 

It  was  a  moving  picture  of  Spanish  life  and  character,  which 
I  delighted  to  study ;  and  as  the  astronomer  has  his  grand  tele- 
scope with  which  to  sweep  the  skies,  and,  as  it  were,  bring  the 
stars  nearer  for  his  inspection,  so  I  had  a  smaller  one,  of  pocket 


118  VIEWS   FEOM  A  BALCONY. 

size,  for  the  use  of  my  observatory,  with  which  I  could  sweep  the 
regions  below,  and  bring  the  countenances  of  the  motley  groups 
so  close  as  almost,  at  times,  to  make  me  think  I  could  divine 
their  conversation  by  the  play  and  expression  of  their  features. 
I  was  thus,  in  a  manner,  an  invisible  observer,  and,  without  quit- 
ting my  solitude,  could  throw  myself  in  an  instant  into  the. midst 
of  society, — a  rare  advantage  to  one  of  somewhat  shy  and  quiet 
habits,  and  fond,  like  myself,  of  observing  the  drama  of  life 
without  becoming  an  actor  in  the  scene. 

There  was  a  considerable  suburb  lying  below  the  Alhambra, 
filling  the  narrow  gorge  of  the  valley,  and  extending  up  the  oppo- 
site hill  of  the  Albaycin.  Many  of  the  houses  were  built  in  the 
Moorish  style,  round  patios,  or  courts,  cooled  by  fountains  and 
open  to  the  sky ;  and  as  the  inhabitants  passed  much  of  their 
time  in  these  courts,  and  on  the  terraced  roofs  during  the  sum- 
mer season,  it  follows  that  many  a  glance  at  their  domestic  life 
might  be  obtained  by  an  aerial  spectator  like  myself,  who  could 
look  down  on  them  from  the  clouds. 

I  enjoyed,  in  some  degree,  the  advantages  of  the  student  in 
the  famous  old  Spanish  story,  who  beheld  all  Madrid  unroofed 
for  his  inspection  ;  and  my  gossiping  squire,  Mateo  Ximenes, 
officiated  occasionally  as  my  Asmodeus,  to  give  me  anecdotes  of 
the  different  mansions  and  their  inhabitants. 

I  preferred,  however,  to  form  conjectural  histories  for  myself, 
and  thus  would  sit  for  hours,  weaving,  from  casual  incidents  and 
indications  passing  under  my  eye,  a  whole  tissue  of  schemes, 
intrigues,  and  occupations  of  the  busy  mortals  below.  There  was 
scarce  a  pretty  face  or  a  striking  figure  that  I  daily  saw,  about  which 
I  had  not  thus  gradually  framed  a  dramatic  story,  though  some  of 
my  characters  would  occasionally  act  in  direct  opposition  to  the 


TAKING   THE   VEIL.  119 

part  assigned  them,  and  disconcert  the  whole  drama.  Reconnoi- 
tring one  day  with  my  glass  the  streets  of  the  Albaycin,  I  beheld 
the  procession  of  a  novice  about  to  take  the  veil ;  and  remarked 
several  circumstances  which  excited  the  strongest  sympathy  in  the 
fate  of  the  youthful  being  thus  about  to  be  consigned  to  a  living 
omb.  I  ascertained  to  my  satisfaction  that  she  was  beautiful ; 
and,  from  the  paleness  of  her  cheek,  that  she  was  a  victim,  rather 
than  a  votary.  She  was  arrayed  in  bridal  garments,  and  decked 
with  a  chaplet  of  white  flowers,  but  her  heart  evidently  revolted 
at  this  mockery  of  a  spiritual  union,  and  yearned  after  its  earthly 
loves.  A  tall  stern-looking  man  walked  near  her  in  the  proces- 
sion ;  it  was,  of  course,  the  tyrannical  father,  who,  from  some 
bigoted  or  sordid  motive,  had  compelled  this  sacrifice.  Amid  the 
crowd  was  a  dark  handsome  youth,  in  Andalusian  garb,  who 
seemed  to  fix  on  her  an  eye  of  agony.  It  was  doubtless  the 
secret  lover  from  whom  she  was  for  ever  to  be  separated.  My 
indignation  rose  as  I  noted  the  malignant  expression  painted  on 
the  countenances  of  the  attendant  monks  and  friars.  The  proces- 
sion arrived  at  the  chapel  of  the  convent  j  the  sun  gleamed  for 
the  last  time  upon  the  chaplet  of  the  poor  novice,  as  she  crossed 
the  fatal  threshold,  and  disappeared  within  the  building.  The 
throng  poured  in  with  cowl,  and  cross,  and  minstrelsy ;  the  lovei 
paused  for  a  moment  at  the  door.  I  could  divine  the  tuuiull 
of  his  feelings  ;  but  he  mastered  them,  and  entered.  There  was 
a  long  interval — I  pictured  to  myself  the  scene  passing  within  j 
the  poor  novice  despoiled  of  her  transient  finery,  and  clothed  in 
the  conventual  garb ;  the  bridal  chaplet  taken  from  her  brow,  and 
her  beautiful  head  shorn  of  its  long  silken  tresses.  I  heard  hei 
murmur  the  irrevocable  vow.  I  saw  her  extended  on  a  bier  ;  the 
death-pall  spread  over  her ;  the  funeral  service  performed  thai 


120  TAKING   THE   VEIL. 

proclaimed  her  dead  to  the  world ;  her  sighs  were  drowned  in 
the  deep  tones  of  the  organ,  and  the  plaintive  requiem  of  the 
nuns ;  the  father  looked  on,  unmoved,  without  a  tear ;  the  lover- 
no — my  imagination  refused  to  portray  the  anguish  of  the  lover 
— there  the  picture  remained  a  blank. 

After  a  time  the  throng  again  poured  forth,  and  dispersed 
various  ways,  to  enjoy  the  light  of  the  sun  and  mingle  with  the 
stirring  scenes  of  life ;  but  the  victim,  with  her  bridal  chaplet, 
was  no  longer  there.  The  door  of  the  convent  closed  that 
severed  her  from  the  world  for  ever.  I  saw  the  father  and  the 
lover  issue  forth  ;  they  were  in  earnest  conversation.  The  latter 
was  vehement  in  his  gesticulations ;  I  expected  some  violent  ter- 
mination to  my  drama;  but  an  angle  of  a  building  interfered 
and  closed  the  scene.  My  eye  afterwards  was  frequently  turned 
to  that  convent  with  painful  interest.  I  remarked  late  at  night 
a  solitary  light  twinkling  from  a  remote  lattice  of  one  of  its 
towers.  "  There,"  said  I,  "  the  unhappy  nun  sits  weeping  in  her 
cell,  while  perhaps  her  lover  paces  the  street  below  in  unavailing 
anguish." 

— The  officious  Mateo  interrupted  my  meditations  and  de- 
stroyed in  an  instant  the  cobweb  tissue  of  my  fancy.  With  his 
usual  zeal  he  had  gathered  facts  concerning  the  scene,  which  put 
my  fictions  all  to  flight.  The  heroine  of  my  romance  was  neither 
young  nor  handsome ;  she  had  no  lover  \  she  had  entered  the 
convent  of  her  own  free  will,  as  a  respectable  asylum,  and  was 
one  of  the  most  cheerful  residents  within  its  walls. 

It  was  some  little  while  before  I  could  forgive  the  wrong 
done  me  by  the  nun  in  being  thus  happy  in  her  cell,  in  contra- 
diction to  all  the  rules  of  romance ;  I  diverted  my  spleen,  how- 
ever, by  watching,  for  a  day  or  two,  the  pretty  coquetries  of  a 


THE   MYSTEKIOUS    CAVALIEK.  121 

dark -eyed  brunette,  who,  from  the  covert  of  a  balcony  shrouded 
with  flowering  shrubs  and  a  silken  awning,  was  carrying  on  a 
mysterious  correspondence  with  a  handsome,  dark,  well-whiskered 
cavalier,  who  lurked  frequently  in  the  street  beneath  her  window. 
Sometimes  I  saw  him  at  an  early  hour,  stealing  forth  wrapped 
to  the  eyes  in  a  mantle.  Sometimes  he  loitered  at  a  corner,  in 
vai  icus  disguises,  apparently  waiting  for  a  private  signal  to  slip 
into  the  house,  Then  there  was  the  tinkling  of  a  guitar  at 
night,  and  a  lantern  shifted  from  place  to  place  in  the  balcony. 
I  imagined  another  intrigue  like  that  of  Almaviva ;  but  was  again 
disconcerted  in  all  my  suppositions. — The  supposed  lover  turned 
out  to  be  the  husband  of  the  lady,  and  a  noted  contrabandista ; 
and  all  his  mysterious  signs  and  movements  had  doubtless  some 
smuggling  scheme  in  view. 

— I  occasionally  amused  myself  with  noting  from  this  bal- 
cony the  gradual  changes  of  the  scenes  below,  according  to  the 
different  stages  of  the  day. 

Scarce  has  the  gray  dawn  streaked  the  sky,  and  the  earliest 
cock  crowed  from  the  cottages  of  the  hill-side,  when  the  suburbs 
give  sign  of  reviving  animation ;  for  the  fresh  hours  of  dawning 
are  precious  in  the  summer  season  in  a  sultry  climate.  All  are 
anxious  to  get  the  start  of  the  sun,  in  the  business  of  the  day. 
The  muleteer  drives  forth  his  loaded  train  for  the  journey ;  the 
traveller  slings  his  carbine  behind  his  saddle,  and  mounts  his  steed 
at  the  gate  of  the  hostel ;  the  brown  peasant  from  the  country 
urges  forward  his  loitering  beasts,  laden  with  panniers  of  sunny 
fruit  and  fresh  dewy  vegetables :  for  already  the  thrifty  house- 
wives are  hastening  to  the  market, 

The  sun  is  up  and  sparkles  along  the  valley,  tipping  the  trans- 
parent foliage  of  the  groves.  The  matin  bells  resound  melodiously 
6 


122  THE   CHANGES   OF  THE  DAY. 

through  the  pure  bright  air,  announcing  the  hour  of  devotion 
The  muleteer  halts  his  burdened  animals  before  the  chapel,  thrusts 
his  staff  through  his  belt  behind,  and  enters  with  hat  in  hand, 
smoothing  his  coal-black  hair,  to  hear  a  mass,  and  put  up  a  prayer 
for  a  prosperous  wayfaring  across  the  sierra.  And  now  steals 
forth  on  fairy  foot  the  gentle  Seiiora,  in  trim  basquina,  with  rcst« 
less  fan  in  hand,  and  dark  eye  flashing  from  beneath  the  gracefully 
folded  mantilla ;  she  seeks  some  well-frequented  church  to  offer 
up  her  morning  orisons  ;  but  the  nicely-adjusted  dress,  the  dainty 
shoe  and  cobweb  stocking,  the  raven  tresses  exquisitely  braided, 
the  fresh  plucked  rose,  gleaming  among  them  like  a  gem,  show 
that  earth  divides  with  Heaven  the  empire  of  her  thoughts. 
Keep  an  eye  upon  her,  careful  mother,  or  virgin  aunt,  or  vigilant 
duenna,  whichever  you  be,  that  walk  behind  ! 

As  the  morning  advances,  the  din  of  labor  augments  on  every 
side ;  the  streets  are  thronged  with  man,  and  steed,  and  beast  of 
burden,  and  there  is  a  hum  and  murmur,  like  the  surges  of  the 
ocean.  As  the  sun  ascends  to  his  meridian  the  hum  and  bustle 
gradually  decline  ;  at  the  height  of  noon  there  is  a  pause.  The 
panting  city  sinks  into  lassitude,  and  for  several  hours  there  is  a 
general  repose.  The  windows  are  closed,  the  curtains  drawn  ;  the 
inhabitants  retired  into  the  coolest  recesses  of  their  mansions ; 
the  full-fed  monk  snores  in  his  dormitory ;  the  brawny  porter  lies 
stretched  on  the  pavement  beside  his  burden ;  the  peasant  and 
the  laborer  sleep  beneath  the  trees  of  the  Alameda,  lulled  by  the 
Bultry  chirping  of  the  locust.  The  streets  are  deserted,  except 
by  the  water-carrier,  who  refreshes  the  ear  by  proclaiming  tho 
merits  of  his  sparkling  beverage,  "  colder  than  the  mountain 
Bnow  (masfria  que  la  nieve)." 

As  the  sun  declines,  there  is  again  a  gradual  reviving,  and 


.      THE   CHANGES   OF   THE   DAY.  123 

when  the  vesper  bell  rings  out  his  sinking  knell,  all  nature  seems 
to  rejoice  that  the  tyrant  of  the  day  has  fallen.  Now  begins  the 
bustle  of  enjoyment,  when  the  citizens  pour  forth  to  breathe 
the  evening  air,  and  revel  away  the  brief  twilight  in  the  walks 
and  gardens  of  the  Darro  and  Xenil. 

As  night  closes,  the  capricious  scene  assumes  new  features. 
Light  after  light  gradually  twinkles  forth ;  here  a  taper  from  a 
balconied  window ;  there  a  votive  lamp  before  the  image  of  a 
Saint.  Thus,  by  dfcees,  the  city  emerges  from  the  pervading 
gloom,  and  sparkles  with  scattered  lights,  like  the  starry  firma- 
ment. Now  break  forth  from  court  and  garden,  and  street  and 
lane,  the  tinkling  of  innumerable  guitars,  and  the  clicking  of 
castanets ;  blending,  at  this  lofty  height,  in  a  faint  but  general 
concert.  "  Enjoy  the  moment,"  is  the  creed  of  the  gay  and 
amorous  Andalusian,  and  at  no  time  does  he  practise  it  more 
zealously  than  in  the  balmy  nights  of  summer,  wooing  his  mis- 
tress with  the  dance,  the  love  ditty,  and  the  passionate  serenade. 

I  was  one  evening  seated  in  the  balcony,  enjoying  the  light 
breeze  that  came  rustling  along  the  side  of  the  hill,  among  the 
tree-tops,  when  my.  humble  historiographer  Mateo,  who  was  at 
my  elbow,  pointed  out  a  spacious  house,  in  an  obscure  street  of 
the  Albaycin,  about  which  he  related,  as  nearly  as  I  can  recollect, 
the  following  ancodote. 


THE  ADVENTURE  OF  THE  MASON. 

u  THERE  was  once  upon  a  time  a  poor  mason,  or  bricklayer,  ill 
Granada,  who  kept  all  the  saints'  days  and  holidays,  and  Saint 
Monday  into  the  bargain,  and  yet,  with  all  his  devotion,  he  grew 
poorer  and  poorer,  and  could  scarcely  earn  bread  for  his  numer- 
ous family.  One  night  he  was  roused  from  his  first  sleep  by  a 
knocking  at  his  door.  He  opened  it,  and  beheld  before  him  a 
tall,  meagre,  cadaverous-looking  priest. 

" l  Hark  ye,  honest  friend !'  said  the  stranger ;  ;  I  have  ob- 
served that  you  are  a  good  Christian,  and  one  to  be  trusted ;  will 
you  undertake  a  job  this  very  night  ?' 

" '  With  all  my  heart,  Senor  Padre,  on  condition  that  I  am 
paid  accordingly.' 

"  l  That  you  shall  be ;  but  you  must  suffer  yourself  to  be  blind- 
folded.' 

"  To  this  the  mason  made  no  objection ;  so,  being  hoodwinked, 
he  was  led  by  the  priest  through  various  rough  lanes  and  wind- 
ing passages,  until  they  stopped  before  the  portal  of  a  house 
The  priest  then  applied  a  key,  turned  a  creaking  lock,  and  opened 
what  sounded  like  a  ponderous  door.  They  entered,  the  door 
was  closed  and  bolted,  and  the  mason  was  conducted  through  an 
echoing  corridor,  and  a  spacious  hall,  to  an  interior  part  of  the 


THE  ADVENTURE  OF  THE  MASON.          125 

building.  Here  the  bandage  was  removed  from  his  eyes,  and  he 
found  himself  in  a  patio,  or  court,  dimly  lighted  by  a  single  lamp. 
In  the  centre  was  the  dry  basin  of  an  old  Moorish  fountain,  under 
which  the  priest  requested  him  to  form  a  small  vault,  bricks  and 
mortar  being  at  hand  for  the  purpose.  He  accordingly  worked 
all  night,  but  without  finishing  the  job.  Just  before  daybreak 
the  priest  put  a  piece  of  gold  into  his  hand,  and  having  again 
blindfolded  him,  conducted  him  back  to  his  dwelling. 

"' '  Are  you  willing,'  said  he,  '  to  return  and  complete  your 
work?' 

;< '  Gladly,  Senor  Padre,  provided  I  am  so  well  paid.' 

" '  Well,  then,  to-morrow  at  midnight  I  will  call  again.' 

"  He  did  so,  and  the  vault  was  completed. 

" '  Now,'  said  the  priest,  '  you  must  help  me  to  bring  forth  the 
bodies  that  are  to  be  buried  in  this  vault.' 

"  The  poor  mason's  hair  rose  on  his  head  at  these  words :  ho 
followed  the  priest,  with  trembling  steps,  into  a  retired  chamber 
of  the  mansion,  expecting  to  behold  some  ghastly  spectacle  of 
death,  but  was  relieved  on  perceiving  three  or  four  portly  jars 
standing  in  one  corner.  They  were  evidently  full  of  money,  and 
it  was  with  great  labor  that  he  and  the  priest  carried  them  forth 
and  consigned  them  to  their  tomb.  The  vault  was  then  closed, 
the  pavement  replaced,  and  all  traces  of  the  work  were  oblitera- 
ted. The  mason  was  again  hoodwinked  and  led  forth  by  a  route 
different  from  that  by  which  he  had  come.  After  they  had  wan- 
dered for  a  long  time  through  a  perplexed  maze  of  lanes  and 
alleys,  they  halted.  The  priest  then  put  two  pieces  of  gold  into 
his  hand  :  '  Wait  here,'  said  he,  '  until  you  hear  the  cathedral 
bell  toll  for  matins.  If  you  presume  to  uncover  your  eyes  before 
that  time,  evil  will  befall  you:'  so  saying,  he  departed.  The 


126         THE  ADVENTURE  OF  THE  MASON. 

mason  waited  faithfully,  amusing  himself  by  weighing  the  gou] 
pieces  in  his  hand,  and  clinking  them  against  each  other.  The 
moment  the  cathedral  bell  rang  its  matin  peal,  he  uncovered  his 
eyes,  and  found  himself  on  the  banks  of  the  Xenil ;  whence  ho 
made  the  best  of  his  way  home,  and  revelled  with  his  family  for 
a  whole  fortnight  on  the  profits  of  his  two  nights'  work ;  after 
which,  he  was  as  poor  as  ever. 

"  He  continued  to  work  a  little,  and  pray  a  good  deal,  and 
keep  saints'  days  and  holidays,  from  year  to  year,  while  his  family 
grew  up  as  gaunt  and  ragged  as  a  crew  of  gipsies.     As  he  wag 
seated  one  evening  at  the  door  of  his  hovel,  he  was  accosted  by  a 
rich  old  curmudgeon,  who  was  noted  for  owning  many  houses,  and 
being  a  griping  landlord.     The  man  of  money  eyed  him  for  a 
moment  from  beneath  a  pair  of  anxious  shagged  eyebrows. 
" '  I  am  told,  friend,  that  you  are  very  poor.' 
" l  There  is  no  denying  the  fact,  seiior — it  speaks  for  itself.' 
" '  I  presume  then,  that  you  will  be  glad  of  a  job,  and  will 
work  cheap.' 

" '  As  cheap,  my  master,  as  any  mason  in  Granada.' 
" '  That's  what  I  want.     I  have  an  old  house  fallen  into  de- 
cay, which  costs  me  more  money  than  it  is  worth  to  keep  it  in 
repair,  for  nobody  will  live  in  it ;  so  I  must  contrive  to  patch  it 
up  and  keep  it  together  at  as  small  expense  as  possible.' 

"  The  mason  was  accordingly  conducted  to  a  large  deserted 
house  that  seemed  going  to  ruin.    Passing  through  several  empty 
halls  and  chambers,  he  entered  an  inner  court,  where  his  eye  was 
oaught  by  an  old  Moorish  fountain.     He  paused  for  a  moment, 
for  a  dreaming  recollection  of  the  place  came  over  him. 
" '  Pray,"  said  he,  l  who  occupied  this  house  formerly  ?' 
" '  A  pest  upon  him  !'  cried  the  landlord,  '  it  was  an  old  miserly 


THE  ADVENTURE  OF  THE  MASON.          127 

priest,  who  cared  for  nobody  but  himself.  He  was  said  to  be  im 
mensely  rich,  and,  having  no  relations,  it  was  thought  he  would 
leave  all  his  treasures  to  the  church.  He  died  suddenly,  and  the 
priests  and  friars  thronged  to  take  possession  of  his  wealth ;  but 
nothing  could  they  find  but  a  few  ducats  in  a  leathern  purse. 
The  worst  luck  has  fallen  on  me,  for,  since  his  death,  the  old 
fellow  continues  to  occupy  my  house  without  paying  rent,  and 
there  is  no  taking  the  law  of  a  dead  man.  The  people  pretend 
to  hear  the  clinking  of  gold  all  night  in  the  chamber  where  the 
old  priest  slept,  as  if  he  were  counting  over  his  money,  and  some- 
times a  groaning  and  moaning  about  the  court.  Whether  true 
or  false,  these  stories  have  brought  a  bad  name  on  my  house,  and 
not  a  tenant  will  remain  in  it.' 

" i  Enough,'  said  the  mason  sturdily :  '  let  me  live  in  your 
house  rent-free  until  some  better  tenant  present,  and  I  will  engage 
to  put  it  in  repair,  and  to  quiet  the  troubled  spirit  that  disturbs 
it.  I  am  a  good  Christian  and  a  poor  man,  and  am  not  to  be 
daunted  by  the  Devil  himself,  even  though  he  should  come  in  the 
shape  of  a  big  bag  of  money  !' 

"  The  offer  of  the  honest  mason  was  gladly  accepted ;  he 
moved  with  his  family  into  the  house,  and  fulfilled  all  his  engage- 
ments. By  little  and  little  he  restored  it  to  its  former  state ; 
the  clinking  of  gold  was  no  more  heard  at  night  in  the  chamber 
of  the  defunct  priest,  but  began  to  be  heard  by  day  in  the  pocket 
of  the  living  mason.  In  a  word,  he  increased  rapidly  in  wealth, 
to  the  admiration  of  all  his  neighbors,  and  became  one  of  the 
richest  men  in  Granada :  he  gave  large  sums  to  the  .church,  by 
way,  no  doubt,  of  satisfying  his  conscience,  and  never  revealed 
the  secret  of  the  vault  until  on  his  deathbed  to  his  son  and  heir. 


THE  COURT  OF  LIONS. 

TUB  peculiar  charm  of  this  old  dreamy  palace,  is  itfl  power  ot 
calling  up  vague  reveries  and  picturings  of  the  pastj  and  thus 
clothing  naked  realities  with  the  illusions  of  the  memory  and  the 
imagination.  As  I  delight. to  walk  in  these  "vain  shadows,"  I 
am  prone  to  seek  those  parts  of  the  Alhambra  which  are  most 
favorable  to  this  phantasmagoria  of  the  mind  ;  and  none  are  more 
so  than  the  Court  of  Lions,  and  its  surrounding  halls.  Here  the 
hand  of  time  has  fallen  the  lightest,  and  the  traces  of  Moorish 
elegance  and  splendor  exist  in  almost  their  original  brilliancy. 
Earthquakes  have  shaken  the  foundations  of  this  pile,  and  rent 
its  rudest  towers ;  yet  see  !  not  one  of  those  slender  columns  has 
been  displaced,  not  an  arch  of  that  light  and  fragile  colonnade 
given  way,  and  all  the  fairy  fretwork  of  these  domes,  appa- 
rently as  unsubstantial  as  the  crystal  fabrics  of  a  morning's  frost, 
exist  after  the  lapse  of  centuries,  almost  as  fresh  as  if  from  the 
hand  of  the  Moslem  artist.  I  write  in  the  midst  of  these  memen- 
tos of  the  past,  in  the  fresh  hour  of  early  morning,  in  the  fated 
Hall  of  the  Abencerrages.  The  blood-stained  fountain,  the 
legendary  monument  of  their  massacre,  is  before  me ;  the  lofty 
et  almost  casts  its  dew  upon  my  paper.  How  difficult  to  recon- 
cile the  ancient  tale  of  violence  and  blood  with  the  gentle  and 


THE   COTJKT   OF   LIONS.  129 

peaceful  scene  around  !  Every  thing  here  appears  calculated  to 
inspire  kind  and  happy  feelings,  for  every  thing  is  delicate  and 
beautiful.  The  very  light  falls  tenderly  from  above,  through  the 
lantern  of  a  dome  tinted  and  wrought  as  if  by  fairy  hands. 
Through  the  ample  and  fretted  arch  of  the  portal  I  behold  the 
Court  of  Lions,  with  brilliant  sunshine  gleaming  along  its  colon- 
nades, and  sparkling  in  its  fountains.  The  lively  swallow  diven 
into  the  court,  and,  rising  with  a  surge,  darts  away  twittering 
over  the  roofs ;  the  busy  bee  toils  humming  among  the  flower 
beds,  and  painted  butterflies  hover  from  plant  to  plant,  and  flutter 
up  and  sport  with  each  other  in  the  sunny  air.  It  needs  but  a 
slight  exertion  of  the  fancy  to  picture  some  pensive  beauty  of  the 
harem,  loitering  in  these  secluded  haunts  of  Oriental  luxury. 

He,  however,  who  would  behold  this  scene  under  an  aspect 
more  in  unison  with  its  fortunes,  let  him  come  when  the  shadows 
of  evening  temper  the  brightness  of  the  court,  and  throw  a  gloom 
into  the  surrounding  halls.  Then  nothing  can  be  more  serenely 
melancholy,  or  more  in  harmony  with  the  tale  of  departed  gran- 
deur. 

At  such  times  I  am  apt  to  seek  the  Hall  of  Justice,  whoso 
deep  shadowy  arcades  extend  across  the  upper  end  of  the  court. 
Here  was  performed,  in  presence  of  Ferdinand  and  Isabella,  and 
their  triumphant  court,  the  pompous  ceremonial  of  high  mass,  on 
taking  possession  of  the  Alhambra.  The  very  cross  is  still  to  bo 
seen  upon  the  wall,  where  the  altar  was  erected,  and  where  offici 
ated  the  Grand  Cardinal  of  Spain,  and  others  of  the  highest 
religious  dignitaries  of  the  land.  I  picture  to  myself  the  scene 
when  this  place  was  filled  with  the  conquering  host,  that  mixture 
of  mitred  prelate  and  shaven  monk,  and  steel-clad  knight  anf 
silken  courtier ;  when  crosses  and  crosiers  and  religious  stand 
6* 


130  A  MOOE,   IN  THE   COURT   OF  LIONS. 

ards  were  mingled  with  proud  armorial  ensigns  and  the  banners 
of  the  haughty  chiefs  of  Spain,  and  flaunted  in  triumph  through 
those  Moslem  halls.  I  picture  to  myself  Columbus,  the  future 
discoverer  of  a  world,  taking  his  modest  stand  in  a  remote  cor- 
ner, the  humble  and  neglected  spectator  of  the  pageant.  I  see 
in  imagination  the  Catholic  sovereigns  prostrating  themselves 
before  the  altar,  and  pouring  forth  thanks  for  their  victory; 
while  the  vaults  resound  with  sacred  minstrelsy,  and  the  deep- 
toned  Te  Deum. 

The  transient  illusion  is  over — the  pageant  melts  from  the 
fancy — monarch,  priest,  and  warrior,  return  into  oblivion,  with 
the  poor  Moslems  over  whom  they  exulted.  The  hall  of  their 
triumph  is  waste  and  desolate.  The  bat  flits  about  its  twilight 
vault,  and  the  owl  hoots  from  the  neighboring  tower  of  Comares. 

Entering  the  Court  of  the  Lions  a  few  evenings  since,  I  was 
almost  startled  at  beholding  a  turbaned  Moor  quietly  seated  near 
the  fountain.  For  a  moment  one  of  the  fictions  of  the  place 
seemed  realized :  an  enchanted  Moor  had  broken  the  spell  of  cen- 
turies, and  become  visible.  "  He  proved,  however,  to  be  a  mere 
ordinary  mortal ;  a  native  of  Tetuan  in  Barbary,  who  had  a  shop 
in  the  Zacatin  of  Granada,  where  he  sold  rhubarb,  trinkets,  and 
perfumes.  As  he  spoke  Spanish  fluently,  I  was  enabled  to  hold 
conversation  with  him,  and  found  him  shrewd  and  intelligent. 
He  told  me  that  he  came  up  the  hill  occasionally  in  the  summer, 
to  pass  a  part  of  the  day  in  the  Alhambra,  which  reminded  him 
of  the  old  palaces  in  Barbary,  being  built  and  adorned  in  similar 
',  style,  though  with  more  magnificence. 

As  we  walked  about  the  palace,  he  pointed  out  several  of  the 
Arabic  inscriptions,  as  possessing  much  poetic  beauty. 

Ah,  senor,  said  he;  when  the  Moors  held  Granada,  they  were 


A  MODE  IN  THE  COURT  OF  LIONS.         131 

a  gayer  people  than  they  are  now-a-days.  They  thought  only  of 
love,  music,  and  poetry.  They  made  stanzas  upon  every  occa- 
sion, and  set  them  all  to  music.  He  who  could  make  the  best 
verses,  and  she  who  had  the  most  tuneful  voice,  might  be  suro 
of  favor  and  preferment.  In  those  days,  if  any  one  asked  for 
bread,  the  reply  was,  make  me  a  couplet ;  and  the  poorest  beggar, 
if  he  begged  in  rhyme,  would  often  be  rewarded  with  a  piece  of 
gold, 

"  And  is  the  popular  feeling  for  poetry/'  said  I,  "  entirely 
lost  among  you  ?" 

"  By  no  means,  senor ;  the  people  of  Barbary,  even  'those  of 
the  lower  classes,  still  make  couplets,  and  good  ones  too,  as  in 
old  times  ;  but  talent  is  not  rewarded  as  it  was  then  ;  the  .rich 
prefer  the  jingle  of  their  gold  to  the  sound  of  poetry  or  music." 

As  he  was  talking,  his  eye  caught  one  of  the  inscriptions 
which  foretold  perpetuity  to  the  power  and  glory  of  the  Moslem 
monarchs,  the  masters  of  this  pile.  He  shook  his  head,  and 
shrugged  his  shoulders,  as  he  interpreted  it.  "  Such  might  have 
been  the  case,"  said  he ;  "  the  Moslems  might  still  have  been 
reigning  in  the  Alhambra,  had  not  Boabdil  been  a  traitor,  and 
given  up  his  capital  to  the  Christians.  The  Spanish  monarchs 
would  never  have  been  able  to  conquer  it  by  open  force." 

I  endeavored  to  vindicate  the  memory  of  the  unlucky  Boab- 
dil from  this  aspersion,  and  to  show  that  the  dissensions  which 
led  to  the  downfall  of  the  Moorish  throne,  originated  in  the 
cruelty  of  his  tiger-hearted  father ;  but  the  Moor  would  admit 
of  no  palliation. 

"  Muley  Abul  Hassan,"  said  he,  "  might  have  been  cruel ; 
but  he  was  brave,  vigilant,  and  patriotic.  Had  he  been  properly 
seconded,  Granada  would  still  have  been  ours  j  but  his  son  Boab- 


132  THE   PACHA   OF  TETUAN. 

dil  thwarted  his  plans,  crippled  his  power,  sowed  treason  in  his 
palace,  and  dissension  in  his  camp.  May  the  curse  of  God  light 
upon  him  for  his  treachery !"  "With  these  words  the  Moor  left 
the  Alhambra. 

The  indignation  of  my  turbaned  companion  agrees  with  an 
anecdote  related  by  a  friend,  who,  in  the  course  of  a  tour  in  Bar- 
bary,  had  an  interview  with  the  Pacha  of  Tetuan.  The  Moorish 
governor  was  particular  in  his  inquiries  about  Spain,  and  espe- 
cially concerning  the  favored  region  of  Andalusia,  the  delights 
of  Granada,  and  the  remains  of  its  royal  palace.  The  replies 
awakened  all  those  fond  recollections,  so  deeply  cherished  by  the 
Moors,  of  the  power  and  splendor  of  their  ancient  empire  in 
Spain.  Turning  to  his  Moslem  attendants,  the  Pacha  stroked 
his  beard,  and  broke  forth  in  passionate  lamentations,  that  such 
a  sceptre  should  have  fallen  from  the  sway  of  true  believers. 
He  consoled  himself,  however,  with  the  persuasion,  that  the 
power  and  prosperity  of  the  Spanish  nation  were  on  the  decline  j 
that  a  time  would  come  when  the  Moors  would  reconquer  their 
rightful  domains  ;  and  that  the  day  was  perhaps  not  far  distant, 
when  Mohammedan  worship  would  again  be  offered  up  in  the 
Mosque  of  Cordova,  and  a  Mohammedan  prince  sit  on  his  throne 
in  the  Alhambra. 

Such  is  the  general  aspiration  and  belief  among  the  Moors 
of  Barbary ;  who  consider  Spain,  or  Andaluz,  as  it  was  ancient- 
ly called,  their  rightful  heritage,  of  which  they  have  been  des- 
poiled by  treachery  and  violence.  These  ideas  are  fostered  and 
perpetuated  by  the  descendants  of  the  exiled  Moors  of  Granada, 
scattered  among  the  cities  of  Barbary.  Several  of  these  reside 
in  Tetuan,  preserving  their  ancient  names,  such  as  Paez  and 
Medina,  and  refraining  from  intermarriage  with  any  families 


BOABDIL    SLANDERED.  133 

who  cannot  claim  the  same  high  origin.  Their  vaunted  lineage 
is  regarded  with  a  degree  of  popular  deference,  rarely  shown  in 
Mohammedan  communities  to  any  hereditary  distinction,  except- 
ing in  the  royal  line. 

These  families,  it  is  said,  continue  to  sigh  after  the  terres- 
trial paradise  of  their  ancestors,  and  to  put  up  prayers  in  their 
mosques  on  Fridays,  imploring  Allah  to  hasten  the  time  when 
Granada  shall  be  restored  to  the  faithful :  an  event  to  which 
they  look  forward  as  fondly  and  confidently  as  did  the  Christian 
crusaders  to  the  recovery  of  the  Holy  Sepulchre.  Nay,  it  is 
added,  that  some  of  them  retain  the  ancient  maps  and  deeds  of 
the  estates  and  gardens  of  their  ancestors  at  Granada,  and  even 
the  keys  of  the  houses ;  holding  them  as  evidences  of  their 
hereditary  claims,  to  be  produced  at  the  anticipated  day  of  res- 
toration. 

My  conversation  with  the  Moor  set  me  to  musing  on  the  fate 
of  Boabdil.  Never  was  surname  more  applicable  than  that  be- 
stowed upon  him  by  his  subjects  of  el  Zogoybi,  or  the  Unlucky. 
His  misfortunes  began  almost  in  his  cradle,  arid  ceased  not  even 
with  his  death.  If  ever  he  cherished  the  desire  of  leaving  an 
honorable  name  on  the  historic  page,  how  cruelly  has  he  been 
defrauded  of  his  hopes !  Who  is  there  that  has  turned  the  least 
attention  to  the  romantic  history  of  the  Moorish  domination  in 
Spain,  without  kindling  with  indignation  at  the  alleged  atroci- 
ties of  Boabdil  ?  Who  has  not  been  touched  with  the  woe's  of 
his  lovely  and  gentle  queen,  subjected  by  him  to  a  trial  of 
life  and  death,  on  a  false  charge  of  infidelity?  Who  has 
not  been  shocked  by  his  alleged  murder  of  his  sister  and 
her  two  children,  in  a  transport  of  passion?  Who  has  not 
felt  his  blood  boil,  at  the  inhuman  massacre  of  the  gallaiif 
6* 


184  BOABDIL   SLANDERED. 

Abencerrages,  thirty-six  of  whom,  it  is  affirmed,  lie  ordered  to 
be  beheaded  in  the  Court  of  Lions  ?  All  these  charges  have 
been  reiterated  in  various  forms  ;  they  have  passed  into  ballads, 
dramas,  and  romances,  until  they  have  taken  too  thorough  posses- 
sion of  the  public  mind  to  be  eradicated.  There  is  not  a 
foreigner  of  education  that  visits  the  Alhambra,  but  asks  for  the 
fountain  where  the  Abencerrages  were  beheaded ;  and  gazes 
with  horror  at  the  grated  gallery  where  the  queen  is  said  to  have 
been  confined ;  not  a  peasant  of  the  Yega  or  the  Sierra,  but  sings 
the  story  in  rude  couplets,  to  the  accompaniment  of  his  guitar, 
while  his  hearers  learn  to  execrate  the  very  name  of  Boabdil. 

Never,  however,  was  name  more  foully  and  unjustly  slandered. 
I  have  examined  all  the  authentic  chronicles  and  letters  written 
by  Spanish  authors,  contemporary  with  Boabdil ;  some  of  whom 
were  in  the  confidence  of  the  Catholic  sovereigns,  and  actually 
present  in  the  camp  throughout  the  war.  I  have  examined  all 
the  Arabian  authorities  I  could  get  access  to,  through  the  me- 
dium of  translation,  and  have  found  nothing  to  justify  these  dark 
and  hateful  accusations.  The  most  of  these  tales  may  be  traced 
to  a  work  commonly  called  "  The  Civil  Wars  of  Granada,"  con- 
taining a  pretended  history  of  the  feuds  of  the  Zegries  and 
Abencerrages,  during  the  last  struggle  of  the  Moorish  empire. 
The  work  appeared  originally  in  Spanish,  and  professed  be  trans- 
lated from  the  Arabic  by  one  Gines  Perez  de  Hita,  an  inhabitant 
of  Murcia.  It  has  since  passed  into  various  languages,  and 
Florian  has  taken  from  it  much  of  the  fable  of  his  Gonsalvo  of 
Cordova ;  it  has  thus,  in  a  great  measure,  usurped  the  authority 
of  real  history,  and  is  currently  believed  by  the  people,  and 
especially  the  peasantry  of  Granada.  The  whole  of  it,  however, 
is  a  mass  of  fiction,  mingled  with  a  few  disfigured  truths,  which 


BOABDIL    SLANDERED.  135 

give  it  an  air  of  veracity.  It  bears  internal  evidence  of  its 
falsity ;  the  manners  and  customs  of  the  Moors  being  extrava- 
gantly misrepresented  in  it,  and  scenes  depicted  totally  incom* 
Datible  with  their  habits  and  their  faith,  and  which  never  could 
have  been  recorded  by  a  Mahometan  writer. 

I  confess  there  seems  to  me  something  almost  criminal,  in  the 
wilful  perversions  of  this  work :  great  latitude  is  undoubtedly 
to  be  allowed  to  romantic  fiction,  but  there  are  limits  which  it 
must  not  pass  ;  and  the  names  of  the  distinguished  dead,  which 
belong  to  history,  are  no  more  to  be  calumniated  than  those  of 
the  illustrious  living.  One  would  have  thought,  too,  that  the 
unfortunate  Boabdil  had  suffered  enough  for  his  justifiable  hos- 
tility to  the  Spaniards,  by  being  stripped  of  his  kingdom,  with- 
out having  his  name  thus  wantonly  traduced,  and  rendered  a 
by-word  and  a  theme  of  infamy  in  his  native  land,  and  in  the 
very  mansion  of  his  fathers  ! 

If  the  reader  is  sufficiently  interested  in  these  questions  to 
tolerate  a  little  historical  detail,  the  following  facts,  gleaned  from 
what  appear  to  be  authentic  sources,  and  tracing  the  fortunes  of 
the  Abencerrages,  may  serve  to  exculpate  the  unfortunate  Boab- 
dil from  the  perfidious  massacre  of  that  illustrious  line  so  shame- 
lessly charged  to  him.  It  will  also  serve  to  throw  a  proper  light 
upon  the  alleged  accusation  and  imprisonment  of  his  queen. 


THE  ABENCERRAGES. 

A  GRAND  line  of  distinction  existed  among  the  Moslems  of  Spain, 
between  those  of  Oriental  origin  and  those  from  Western  Africa. 
Among  the  former  the  Arabs  considered  themselves  the  purest 
race,  as  being  descended  from  the  countrymen  of  the  Prophet, 
who  first  raised  the  standard  of  Islam ;  among  the  latter,  the 
most  warlike  and  powerful  were  the  Berber  tribes  from  Mount 
Atlas  and  the  deserts  of  Sahara,  commonly  known  as  Moors, 
who  subdued  the  tribes  of  the  sea-coast,  founded  the  city  of 
Morocco,  and  for  a  long  time  desputed  with  the  oriental  races  the 
control  of  Moslem  Spain. 

Among  the  oriental  races  the  Abencerrages  held  a  distin- 
guished rank,  priding  themselves  on  a  pure  Arab  descent  from 
the  Beni  Seraj,  one  of  the  tribes  who  were  Ansares  or  Com- 
panions of  the  Prophet.  The  Abencerrages  nourished  for  a  time 
at  Cordova ;  but  probably  repaired  to  Granada  after  the  down- 
fall of  the  "Western  Caliphat ;  it  was  there  they  attained  their 
historical  and  romantic  celebrity,  being  foremost  among  the 
splendid  chivalry  which  graced  the  court  of  the  Alhambra. 

Their  highest  and  most  dangerous  prosperity  was  during 
the  precarious  reign  of  Muhamed  Nasar,  surnamed  El  Hay- 
zan,  or  the  Left-handed.  That  ill-starred  monarch,  when 


THE   ABENCEKRAGES.  137 

he  ascended  the  throne  in  1423,  lavished  his  favors  upon  this 
gallant  line,  making  the  head  of  the  tribe,  Jusef  Aben  Zeragh, 
his  vizier,  or  prime  minister,  and  advancing  his  relatives  and 
friends  to  the  most  distinguished  posts  about  the  court.  This 
gave  great  offence  to  other  tribes,  and  caused  intrigues  among 
heir  chiefs.  Muhamed  lost  popularity  also  by  his  manners. 
He  was  vain,  inconsiderate  and  haughty  ;  disdained  to  mingle 
among  his  subjects ;  forbade  those  jousts  and  tournaments,  the 
delight  of  high  and  low,  and  passed  his  time  in  the  luxurioua 
retirement  of  the  Alhambra.  The  consequence  was  a  popular 
insurrection  ;  the  palace  was  stormed ;  the  king  escaped  through 
the  gardens ;  fled  to  the  sea-coast,  crossed  in  disguise  to  Africa, 
and  took  refuge  with  his  kinsman,  the  sovereign  of  Tunis. 

Muhamed  el  Zaguer,  cousin  of  the  fugitive  monarch,  took 
possession  of  the  vacant  throne.  He  pursued  a  different  course 
from  his  predecessor.  He  not  only  gave  fetes  and  tourneys,  but 
entered  the  lists  himself,  in  grand  and  sumptuous  array;  he 
distinguished  himself  in  managing  his  horse,  in  tilting,  riding  at 
the  ring,  and  other  chivalrous  exercises ;  feasted  with  his  cava- 
liers, and  made  them  magnificent  presents. 

Those  who  had  been  in  favor  with  his  predecessor,  now  ex- 
perienced a  reverse ;  he  manifested  such  hostility  to  them  that 
more  than  five  hundred  of  the  principal  cavaliers  left  the  city. 
Jusef  Aben  Zeragh,  with  forty  of  the  Abencerrages,  abandoned 
Granada  in  the  night,  and  sought  the  court  of  Juan  the  king 
of  Castile.  Moved  by  their  representations,  that  young  and 
generous  monarch  wrote  letters  to  the  sovereign  of  Tunis,  invit- 
ing him  to  assist  in  punishing  the  usurper  and  restoring  the 
exiled  king  to  his  throne.  The  faithful  and  indefatigable  vizier 
accompanied  the  bearer  of  these  letters  to  Tunis,  where  he  re- 


138  DON   FEDKO   VENEGAS. 

joined  his  exiled  sovereign.  The  letters  were  successful.  Muha- 
med  el  Hayzari  landed  in  Andalusia  with  five  hundred  African 
horse,  and  was  joined  by  the  Abencerrages  and  others  of 
his  adherents  and  by  his  Christian  allies ;  wherever  he  appear- 
ed the  people  submitted  to  him ;  troops  sent  against  him  de- 
serted to  his  standard  ;  Granada  was  recovered  without  a  blow ; 
the  usurper  retreated  to  the  Alhambra,  but  was  beheaded  by 
his  own  soldiers  (1428),  after  reigning  between  two  and  three 
years. 

El  Hayzari,  once  more  on  the  throne,  heaped  honors  on  the 
loyal  vizier,  through  whose  faithful  services  he  had  been  restored, 
and  once  more  the  line  of  the  Abencerrages  basked  in  the  sun- 
shine of  royal  favor.  El  Hayzari  sent  ambassadors  to  King  Juan, 
thanking  him  for  his  aid,  and  proposing  a  perpetual  league  of 
amity.  The  king  of  Castile  required  homage  and  yearly  tribute. 
These  the  left-handed  monarch  refused,  supposing  the  youth- 
ful king  too  much  engaged  in  civil  war  to  enforce  his  claims. 
Again  the  kingdom  of  Granada  was  harassed  by  invasions,  and 
its  Vega  laid  waste.  Various  battles  took  place  with  various 
success.  But  El  Hayzari's  greatest  danger  was  near  at  home. 
There  was  at  that  time  in  Granada  a  cavalier,  Don  Pedro  Vene- 
gas  by  name,  a  Moslem  by  faith,  but  Christian  by  descent,  whose 
early  history  borders  on  romance.  He  was  of  the  noble  house  of 
Luque,  but  captured  when  a  child,  eight  years  of  age,  by  Cid  Yahia 
Alnayar.  prince  of  Almeria,*  who  adopted  him  as  his  son,  educated 
him  in  the  Moslem  faith,  and  brought  him  up  among  his  children, 
the  Celtimerian  princes,  a  proud  family,  descended  in  direct  line 
from  Aben  Hud,  one  of  the  early  Granadian  kings.  A  mutual 

*  ALCANTARA,  Hist.  Granad.,  0.  3,  p.  226,  note. 


DON  PEDRO  VENEGAS.  139 

attachment  sprang  up  between  Don  Pedro  and  the  princess  Ceti- 
merien,  a  daughter  of  Cid  Yahia,  famous  for  her  beauty,  and  whose 
name  is  perpetuated  by  the  ruins  of  her  palace  in  Granada ;  still 
bearing  traces  of  Moorish  elegance  and  luxury.  In  process  of 
time  they  were  married ;  and  thus  a  scion  of  the  Spanish  house 
of  Luque  became  engrafted  on  the  royal  stock  of  Aben  Hud. 

Such  is  the  early  story  of  Don  Pedro  Venegas,  who  at  the 
time  of  which  we  treat  was  a  man  mature  in  years,  and  of  an 
active,  ambitious  spirit.  He  appears  to  have  been  the  soul  of  a 
conspiracy  set  on  foot  about  this  time,  to  topple  Muhamed  the 
Left-handed  from  his  unsteady  throne,  and  'elevate  in  his  place 
Yusef  Aben  Alhamar,  the  eldest  of  the  Celtimerian  princes.  The 
aid  of  the  king  of  Castile  was  to  be  secured,  and  Don  Pedro 
proceeded  on  a  secret  embassy  to  Cordova  for  the  purpose.  He 
informed  King  Juan  of  the  .extent  of  the  conspiracy  ;  that  Yusef 
Aben  Alhamar  could  bring  a  large  force  to  his  standard  as  soon 
as  he  should  appear  in  the  Vega,  and  would  acknowledge  himself 
his  vassal,  if  with  his  aid  he  should  attain  the  crown.  The  aid 
was  promised,  and  Don  Pedro  hastened  back  to  Granada  with  the 
tidings.  The  conspirators  now  left  the  city,  a  few  at  a  time,  under 
various  pretexts ;  and  when  King  Juan  passed  the  frontier,  Yusef 
Aben  Alhamar  brought  eight  thousand  men  to  his  standard,  and 
kissed  his  hand  in  token  of  allegiance. 

It  is  -needless  to  recount  the  various  battles  by  which  the 
kingdom  was  desolated,  and  the  various  intrigues  by  which  one 
half  of  it  was  roused  to  rebellion.  The  Abencerrages  stood  by 
the  failing  fortunes  of  Muhamed  throughout  the  struggle  ;*  their 
last  stand  was  at  Loxa,  where  their  chief,  the  vizier  Yusef  Aben 
Zcragh.  fell  bravely  fighting,  and  many  of  their  noblest  cavaliers 


140  YUSEF   ABEN    ALHAMAR. 

were  slain:  in  fact,  in  that  disastrous  war  the  fortunes  of  the 
family  were  nearly  wrecked. 

Again,  the  ill-starred  Muhamed  was  driven  from  his  throne, 
and  took  refuge  in  Malaga,  the  alcayde  of  which  still  remained 
true  to  him, 

Yusef  Aben  Alhamar,  commonly  known  as  Yusef  II.,  en- 
tered Granada  in  triumph  on  the  first  of  January,  1432,  but  ho 
found  it  a  melancholy  city,  where  half  of  the  inhabitants  were  in 
mourning.  Not  a  noble  family  but  had_lost  some  member;  and 
in  the  slaughter  of  the  Abencerrages  at  Loxa,  had  fallen  some  of 
the  brightest  of  the  chivalry. 

The  royal  pageant  passed  through  silent  streets,  and  the 
barren  homage  of  a  court  in  the  halls  of  the  Alhambra  ill  sup- 
plied the  want  of  sincere  and  popular  devotion.  Yusef  Aben 
Alhamar  felt  the  insecurity  of  his  position.  The  deposed  monarch 
was  at  hand  in  Malaga;  the  sovereign  of  Tunis  espoused  his 
cause,  and  pleaded  with  the  Christian  monarchs  in  his  favor ; 
above  all,  Yusef  felt  his  own  unpopularity  in  Granada  ;  previous 
fatigues  had  impaired  his  health,  a  profound  melancholy  settled 
upon  him,  and  in  the  course  of  six  months  he  sank  into  the 
grave. 

At  the  news  of  his  death,  Muhamed  the  Left-handed  hastened 
from  Malaga,  and  again  was  placed  on  the  throne.  From  the 
wrecks  of  the  Abencerrages  he  chose  as  vizier  Abdelbar,  one  of 
the  worthiest  of  that  magnanimous  line.  Through  his  advice  he 
restrained  his  vindictive  feelings  and  adopted  a  conciliatory 
policy.*  He  pardoned  most  of  his  enemies  Yusef,  the  defunct 
usurper,  had  left  three  children.  His  estates  were  apportioned 
among  them.  Aben  Celini,  the  oldest  son,  was  confirmed  in  the 
title  of  Prince  of  Almeria  and  Lord  of  Marchena  in  the  Alpux- 


LINDARAXA.  14:1 

arras.  Ahmed,  the  youngest,  was  made  Senor  of  Luchar ;  and 
Equivila,  the  daughter,  received  rich  patrimonial  lands  in  the 
fertile  Vega,  and  various  houses  and  shops  in  the  Zacatin  of 
Granada.  The  vizier  Abdelbar  counselled  the  king,  moreover,  to 
secure  the  adherence  of  the  family  by  matrimonial  connections. 
An  aunt  of  Muhamed  was  accordingly  given  in  marriage  to  Aben 
Celim,  while  the  prince  Nasar,  younger  brother  of  the  deceased 
usurper,  received  the  hand  of  the  beautiful  Lindaraxa,  daughter 
of  Muhamed's  faithful  adherent,  the  alcayde  of  Malaga.  This 
was  the  Lindaraxa  whose  name  still  designates  one  of  the  gardens 
of  the  Alhambra. 

Don  Pedro  de  Venegas  alone,  the  husband  of  the  princess 
Cetimerien,  received  no  favor.  He  was  considered  as  having  pro- 
duced the  late  troubles  by  his  intrigues.  The  Abencerrages 
charged  him  with  the  reverses  of  their  family  and  the  deaths  of 
so  many  of  their  bravest  cavaliers.  The  king  never  spoke  of 
him  but  by  the  opprobrious  appellation  of  the  Tornadizo,  or 
Ilenegade.  Finding  himself  in  danger  of  arrest  and  punish- 
ment, he  took  leave  of  his  wife,  the  princess,  his  two  sons,  Abul 
Cacem  and  Reduan,  and  his  daughter,  Cetimerien,  and  fled  to 
Jaen  There,  like  his  brother-in-law,  the  usurper,  he  expiated 
his  intrigues  and  irregular  ambition  by  profound  humiliation  and 
melancholy,  and  died  in  1434  a  penitent,  because  a  disappointed 
man.* 

Muhamed  el  Hayzari  was  doomed  to  further  reverses.  He 
had  two  nephews,  Aben  Osmyn,  surnamed  el  Anaf,  or  the  Lame, 
and  Aben  Ismael.  The  former,  who  was  of  an  ambitious  spirit, 
resided  in  Almeria ;  the  latter  in  Granada,  where  he  had  many 

*  SALAZAB,  Y  CASTRO,  Hist.  Genealog.  de  la  Casa  de  Lara,  lib.  v,  c.  12,  cited 
by  Alcantara  in  his  Hist.  Granad. 


142  THE  ABENCERRAGES. 

friends.  He  was  on  the  point  of  espousing  a  beautiful  girl,  when 
his  royal  uncle  interfered  and  gave  her  to  one  of  his  favorites. 
Enraged  at  this  despotic  act,  the  prince  Aben  Ismael  took  horse 
and  weapons  and  sallied  from  Granada  for  the  frontier,  followed 
by  numerous  cavaliers.  The  affair  gave  general  disgust,  espe- 
cially to  the  Abencerrages  who  were  attached  to  the  prince.  No 
sooner  did  tidings  reach  Aben  Osinyn  of  the  public  discontent 
than  his  ambition  was  aroused.  Throwing  himself  suddenly  into 
Granada,  he  raised  a  popular  tumult,  surprised  his  uncle  in  the 
Alhambra,  compelled  him  to  abdicate,  and  proclaimed  himself 
king.  This  occurred  in  September,  1445.  The  Abencerrages 
now  gave  up  the  fortunes  of  the  left-handed  king  as  hopeless,  and 
himself  as  incompetent  to  rule.  Led  by  their  kinsman,  the  vizier 
Abdelbar,  and  accompanied  by  many  other  cavaliers,  they  aban- 
doned the  court  and  took  post  in  Montefrio.  Thence  Abdelbar 
wrote  to  Prince  Aben  Ismael,  who  had  taken  refuge  in  Castile, 
inviting  him  to  the  camp,  offering  to  support  his  pretensions  to 
the  throne,  and  advising  him  to  leave  Castile  secretly,  lest  his 
departure  should  be  opposed  by  King  Juan  II.  The  prince, 
however,  confiding  in  the  generosity  of  the  Castilian  monarch, 
told  him  frankly  the  whole  matter.  He  was  not  mistaken. 
King  Juan  not  merely  gave  him  permission  to  depart,  but  prom- 
ised him  aid,  and  gave  him  letters  to  that  effect  to  his  command- 
ers on  the  frontiers.  Aben  Ismael  departed  with  a  brilliant 
escort,  arrived  in  safety  at  Montefrio,  and  was  proclaimed  king  of 
Granada  by  Abdelbar  and  his  partisans,  the  most  important  of 
whom  were  the  Abencerrages.  A  long  course  of  civil  wars  ensued 
between  the  two  cousins,  rivals  for  the  throne.  Aben  Osmyn 
was  aided  by  the  kings  of  Navarre  and  Aragon,  while  Juan  II, 
at  war  with  his  rebellious  subjects,  could  give  little  assistance  to 
Aben  Ismael 


ABKS   OSMYN.  143 

Thus  for  several  years  the  country  was  torn  by  internal  strife 
and  desolated  by  foreign  inroads,  so  that  scarce  a  field  but  was 
stained  with  blood.  Aben  Osmyn  was  brave,  and  often  signalized 
himself  in  arms ;  but  he  was  cruel  and  despotic,  and  ruled  with 
an  iron  hand.  He  offended  the  nobles  by  his  caprices,  and  the 
opulace  by  his  tyranny,  while  his  rival  cousin  conciliated  all 
hearts  by  his  benignity.  Hence  there  were  continual  desertions 
from  Granada  to  the  fortified  camp  at  Montefrio,  and  the  party 
of  Aben  Ismael  was  constantly  gaining  strength.  At  length  the 
king  of  Castile,  having  made  peace  with  the  kings  of  Aragon  and 
Navarre,  was  enabled  to  send  a  choice  body  of  troops  to  the 
assistance  of  Aben  Ismael.  The  latter  now  left  his  trenches  in 
Montefrio,  and  took  the  field.  The  combined  forces  marched 
upon  Granada.  Aben  Osmyn  sallied  forth  to  the  encounter.  A 
bloody  battle  ensued,  in  which  both  of  the  rival  cousins  fought 
with  heroic  valor.  Aben  Osmyn  was  defeated  and  driven  back 
to  his  gates.  He  summoned  the  inhabitants  to  arms,  but  few 
answered  to  his  call ;  his  cruelty  had  alienated  all  hearts.  See- 
ing his  fortunes  at  an  end,  he  determined  to  close  his  career  by  a 
signal  act  of  vengeance.  Shutting  himself  up  in  the  Alhambra, 
he  summoned  thither  a  number  of  the  principal  cavaliers  whom 
he  suspected  of  disloyalty.  As  they  entered,  they  were  one  by 
one  put  to  death.  This  is  supposed  by  some  to  be  the  massacre 
which  gave  its  fatal  name  to  the  hall  of  the  Abencerrages.  Hav- 
ing perpetrated  this  atrocious  act  of  vengeance,  and  hearing  by 
the  shouts  of  the  populace  that  Aben  Ismael  was  already  pro- 
claimed king  in  the  city,  he  escaped  with  his  satellites  by  the 
Cerro  del  Sol  and  the  valley  of  the  Darro  to  the  Alpuxarra 
mountains ;  where  he  and  his  followers  led  a  kind  of  robber  life, 
1  lying  villages  and  roads  under  contribution. 


144:  ABEN   ISMAEL. 

Aben  Ismael  II,  who  thus  attained  the  throne  in  1454,  se- 
cured the  friendship  of  King  Juan  II  by  acts  of  homage  and 
magnificent  presents.  He  gave  liberal  rewards  to  those  who  had 
been  faithful  to  him,  and  consoled  the  families  of  those  who  had 
fallen  in  his  cause.  During  his  reign,  the  Abencerrages  were 
again  among  the  most  favored  of  the  brilliant  chivalry  that 
graced  his  court.  Aben  Ismael,  however,  was  not  of  a  warlike 
spirit;  his  reign  was  distinguished  rather  by  works  of  public 
utility,  the  ruins  of  some  of  which  are  still  to  be  seen  on  the 
Cerro  del  Sol. 

In  the  same  year  of  1454  Juan  II  died,  and  was  succeeded  by 
Henry  IV  of  Castile,  surnamed  the  Impotent.  Aben  Ismael 
neglected  to  renew  the  league  of  amity  with  him  which  had 
existed  with  his  predecessor,  as  he  found  it  to  be  unpopular  with 
the  people  of  Granada.  King  Henry  resented  the  omission,  and, 
under  pretext  of  arrears  of  tribute,  made  repeated  forays  into 
the  kingdom  of  Granada.  He  gave  countenance  also  to  Aben 
Osmyn  and  his  robber  hordes,  and  took  some  of  them  into  pay ; 
but  his  proud  cavaliers  refused  to  associate  with  infidel  outlaws 
and  determined  to  seize  Aben  Osmyn ;  who,  however,  made  his 
escape,  first  to  Seville,  and  thence  to  Castile. 

In  the  year  1456,  on  the  occasion  of  a  great  foray  into  the 
Vega  by  the  Christians,  Aben  Ismael,  to  secure  a  peace,  agreed 
to  pay  the  king  of  Castile  a  certain  tribute  annually,  and  at  the 
Bame  time  to  liberate  six  hundred  Christian  captives ;  or,  should 
the  number  of  captives  fall  short,  to  make  it  up  in  Moorish 
hostages.  Aben  Ismael  fulfilled  the  rigorous  terms  of  the  treaty, 
and  reigned  for  a  number  of  years  with  more  tranquillity  than 
usually  fell  to  the  lot  of  the  monarchs  of  that  belligerent  king- 
dom. Granada  enjoyed  a  great  state  of  prosperity  during  his 


DESCENDANTS  OF  DON  PEDRO  YENEGAS.       145 

reign,  and  was  the  seat  of  festivity  and  splendor.  His  sultana 
WB.S  a  daughter  of  Cid  Hiaya  Abraham  Alnayar,  prince  of  Alme- 
ria  ;  and  he  had  by  her  two  sons,  Abul  Hassan,  and  Abi  Abdal- 
lah,  surnamed  El  Zagal,  the  father  and  uncle  of  Boabdil.  We 
approach  now  the  eventful  period  signalized  by  the  conquest  of 
Granada. 

Muley  Abul  Hassan  succeeded  to  the  throne  on  the  death  of 
his  father  in  1465.  One  of  his  first  acts  was  to  refuse  payment 
of  the  degrading  tribute  exacted  by  the  Castilian  monarch.  His 
refusal  was  one  of  the  causes  of  the  subsequent  disastrous  war. 
I  confine  myself,  however,  to  facts  connected  with  the  fortunes 
of  the  Abencerrages  and  the  charges  advanced  against  Boabdil. 

The  reader  will  recollect  that  Don  Pedro  Venegas,  surnamed 
El  Tornadizq,  when  he  fled  from  Granada  in  1433,  left  behind 
him  two  sons,  Abul  Cacim  and  Reduan,  and  a  daughter,  Ceti- 
merien.  They  always  enjoyed  a  distinguished  rank  in  Granada, 
from  their  royal  descent  by  the  mother's  side  ;  and  from  being 
connected,  through  the  princes  of  Almeria,  with  the  last  and 
the  present  king.  The  sons  had  distinguished  themselves  by 
their  talents  and  bravery,  and  the  daughter  Cetimerien  was  mar- 
ried to  Cid  Hiaya,  grandson  of  King  Jusef  and  brother-in-law  of 
El  Zagal.  Thus  powerfully  connected,  it  is  not  surprising  to 
find  Abul  Cacim  Venegas  advanced  to  the  post  of  vizier  of  Muley 
Abul  Hass'an,  and  Reduan  Yenegas  one  of  his  most  favored  gene- 
rals. Their  rise  was  regarded  with  an  evil  eye  by  the  Abencer- 
rages, who  remembered  the  disasters  brought  upon  their  fam- 
ily, and  the  deaths  of  so  many  of  their  line,  in  the  war  foment- 
ed by  the  intrigues  of  Don  Pedro,  in  the  days  of  Jusef  Aben 
Alhamar.  A  feud  had  existed  ever  since  between  the  Abencer- 
7 


146  THE  KIVAL   SULTANAS. 

rages  and  the  house  of  Yenegas.  It  was  soon  to  be  aggravated 
by  a  formidable  schism  which  took  place  in  the  royal  harem. 

Muley  Abul  Hassan,  in  his  youthful  days,  had  married  hia 
cousin,  the  princess  Ayxa  la  Horra,  daughter  of  his  uncle,  the 
ill-starred  sultan,  Muhamed  the  Left-handed  ;*  by  her  he  had 
two  sons,  the  eldest  of  whom  was  Boabdil,  heir  presumptive  to 
the  throne.  Unfortunately  at  an  advanced  age  he  took  another 
wife,  Isabella  de  Solis,  a  young  and  beautiful  Christian  captive  ; 
better  known  by  her  Moorish  appellation  of  Zoraya;  by  her  he 
bad  also  two  sons.  Two  factions  were  produced  in  the  palace 
by  the  rivalry  of  the  sultanas,  who  were  each  anxious  to  secure 
for  their  children  the  succession  to  the  throne.  Zoraya  was  sup- 
ported by  the  vizier  Abul  Caciin  Venegas,  his  brother  Reduan 
Venegas,  and  their  numerous  connections,  partly  through  sym- 
pathy with  her  as  being,  like  themselves,  of  Christian  lineage,  and 
partly  because  they  saw  she  was  the  favorite  of  the  doting  monarch. 

The  Abencerrages,  on  the  contrary,  rallied  round  the  sultana 
Ayxa;  partly  through  hereditary  opposition  to  the  family  of 
Venegas,  but  chiefly,  no  doubt,  through  a  strong  feeling  of  loy- 
alty to  her  as  daughter  of  Muhamed  Alhayzari,  the  ancient  bene- 
factor of  their  line. 

The  dissensions  of  the  palace  went  on  increasing.  Intrigues 
of  all  kinds  took  place,  as  is  usual  in  royal  palaces.  Suspicions 
were  artfully  instilled  in  the  mind  of  Muley  Abul  Hassan  that 
Ayxa  was  engaged  in  a  plot  to  depose  him  and  put  her  son 
Boabdil  on  the  throne.  In  his  first  transports  of  rage  he  con- 
fined them  both  in  the  tower  of  Comares,  threatening  the  life  of 
Boabdil.  At  dead  of  night  the  anxious  mother  lowered  her  son 
from  a  window  of  the  tower  by  the  scarfs  of  herself  and  her 

*  AL  MAKKARI,  B.  vru.  c.  7. 


FATE   OF   THE   ABENCEKKAGES. 


female  attendants  ;  and  some  of  her  adherents,  who  were  in  wait- 
ing with  swift  horses,  bore  him  away  to  the  Alpuxarras.  It 
is  this  imprisonment  of  the  sultana  Ayxa  which  possibly  gave 
rise  to  the  fable  of  the  queen  of  Boabdil  being  confined  by  him 
in  a  tower  to  be  tried  for  her  life.  No  other  shadow  of  a  ground 
exists  for  it,  and  here  we  find  the  tyrant  jailer  was  his  father,  and 
the  captive  sultana,  his  mother. 

The  massacre  of  the  Abencerrages  in  the  halls  of  the  Alham- 
bra,  is  placed  by  some  about  this  time,  and  attributed  also  to 
Muley  Abul  Hassan,  on  suspicion  of  their  being  concerned  in  the 
conspiracy.  The  sacrifice  of  a  number  of  the  cavaliers  of  that 
line  is  said  to  have  been  suggested  by  the  vizier  Abul  Cacirn 
Venegas,  as  a  means  of  striking  terror  into  the  rest.*  If  such 
were  really  the  case,  the  barbarous  measure  proved  abortive. 
The  Abencerrages  continued  intrepid,  as  they  were  loyal,  in  their 
adherence  to  the  cause  of  Ayxa  and  her  son  Boabdil,  throughout 
the  war  which  ensued,  while  the  Venegas  were  ever  foremost 
in  the  ranks  of  Muley  Abul  Hassan  and  El  Zagal.  The  ultimate 
fortunes  of  these  rival  families  is  worthy  of  note.  The  Venegas 
in  the  last  struggle  of  G-ranada,  were  among  those  who  submitted 
to  the  conquerors,  renounced  the  Moslem  creed,  returned  to  the 
faith  from  which  their  ancestor  had  apostatized,  were  rewarded 
with  offices  and  estates,  intermarried  with  Spanish  families,  and 
have  left  posterity  among  the  nobles  of  the  land.  The  Aben- 
cerrages remained  true  to  their  faith,  true  to  their  king,  true  to 
their  desperate  cause,  and  went  down  with  the  foundering  wreck 
of  Moslem  domination,  leaving  nothing  behind  them  but  a  gallant 
and  romantic  name  in  history. 

*  ALCANTARA,  Hist.  Granad.,  c.  17.  See  also  AL  MAKKARI,  ffi&t.  Jfohanta 
Dynasties,  B.  viiL  c.  7,  with  the  Commentaries  of  DOD  Pascual  de  Guyangos 


148  BOABDIL  AND  HIS  SULTANA. 

In  this  historical  outline,  I  trust  I  have  shown  enough  to 
put  the  fable  concerning  Boabdil  and  the  Abencerrages  in  a  truo 
light.  The  story  of  the  accusation  of  his  queen,  and  his  Cruelty 
to  his  sister,  are  equally  void  of  foundation.  In  his  domestic  re- 
lations he  appears  to  have  been  kind  and  affectionate.  History 
gives  him  but  one  wife,  Morayma,  the  daughter  of  the  veteran 
alcayde  of  Loxa,  old  Aliatar,  famous  in  song  and  story  for  his 
exploits  in  border  warfare  ;  and  who  fell  in  that  disastrous 
foray  into  the  Christian  lands  in  which  Boabdil  was  taken  pri- 
soner. Moray  ma  was  true  to  Boabdil  throughout  all  his  vicis- 
situdes. When  he  was  dethroned  by  the  Castilian  monarchs,  she 
retired  with  him  to  the  petty  domain  allotted  him  in  the  valleys 
of  the  Alpuxarras.  It  was  only  when  (dispossessed  of  this  by 
the  jealous  precautions  and  subtle  chicanery  of  Ferdinand,  and 
elbowed,  as  it  were,  out  of  his  native  land,)  he  was  preparing  to 
embark  for  Africa,,  that  her  health  and  spirits,  exhausted  by 
anxiety  and  long  suffering,  gave  way,  and  she  fell  into  a  linger- 
ing illness,  aggravated  by  corroding  melancholy.  Boabdil  was 
constant  and  affectionate  to  her  to  the  last ;  the  sailing  of  the 
ships  was  delayed  for  several  weeks,  to  the  great  annoyance  of 
the  suspicious  Ferdinand.  At  length  Morayma  sank  into  the 
grave,  evidently  the  victim  of  a  broken  heart,  and  the  event  waa 
reported  to  Ferdinand  by  his  agent,  as  one  propitious  to  his  pur- 
poses, removing  the  only  obstacle  to  the  embarkation  of  Boabdil.* 

*  For  authorities  for  these  latter  facts,  see  the  Appendix  to  the  author's 
ro vised  edition  of  the  Conquest  of  Granada. 


MEMENTOS  OF  BOABDIL 

WHILE  iny  mind  was  still  warm  with  the  subject  of  the  un- 
fortunate Boabdil,  I  set  forth  to  trace  the  mementos  of  him  still 
existing  in  this  scene. of  his  sovereignty  and  misfortunes.  In 
the  Tower  of  Comares,  immediately  under  the  Hall  of  Ambas- 
sadors, are  two  vaulted  rooms,  separated  by  a  narrow  passage ; 
these  are  said  to  have  been  the  prisons  of  himself  and  his  mother, 
the  virtuous  Ayxa  la  Horra ;  indeed,  no  other  part  of  the  tower 
would  have  served  for  the  purpose.  The  external  walls  of  these 
chambers  are  of  prodigious  thickness,  pierced  with  small  windows 
secured  by  iron  bars.  A  narrow  stone  gallery,  with  a  low  para- 
pet, extends  along  three  sides  of  the  tower  just  below  the  win- 
dows, but  at  a  considerable  height  from  the  ground.  From  thia 
gallery,  it  is  presumed,  the  queen  lowered  her  son  with  the 
scarfs  of  herself  and  her  female  attendants  during  the  darkness 
of  the  night  to  the  hill-side,  where  some  of  his  faithful  adherents 
waited  with  fleet  steeds  to  bear  him  to  the  mountains. 

Between  three  and  four  hundred  years  have  elapsed,  yet  thia 
scene  of  the  drama  remains  almost  unchanged.  As  I  paced  tho 
gallery,  my  imagination  pictured  the  anxious  queen  leaning  over 
the  parapet ;  listening,  with  the  throbbings  of  a  mother's  heart, 
to  the  last  echoes  of  the  horses'  hoofs  as  her  son  scoured  along 
the  narrow  valley  of  the  Darro. 


150  MEMENTOS    OF   BOABDIL. 

I  next  sought  the  gate  by  which  Boabdil  made  his  last  exit 
from  the  Alhambra,  when  about  to  surrender  his  capital  and 
kingdom.  With  the  melancholy  caprice  of  a  broken  spirit,  or 
perhaps  with  some  superstitious  feeling,  he  requested  of  the 
Catholic  monarchs  that  no  one  afterwards  might  be  permitted  to 
pass  through  it.  His  prayer,  according  to  ancient  chronicles, 
was  complied  with,  through  the  sympathy  of  Isabella,  and  tho 
gate  was  walled  up.* 

I  inquired  for  some  time  in  vain  for  such  a  portal ;  at  length 
my  humble  attendant,  Mateo  Ximenes,  said  it  must  be  one  closed 
up  with  stones,  which,  according  to  what  he  had  heard  from  his 
father  and  grandfather,  was  the  gateway  by  which  King  Chico 
had  left  the  fortress.  There  was  a  mystery  about  it,  and  it  had 
never  been  opened  within  the  memory  of  the  oldest  inhabitant. 

He  conducted  me  to  the  spot.  The  gateway  is  in  the  centre 
of  what  was  once  an  immense  pile,  called  the  Tower  of  the 
Seven  Floors  (la  Torre  de  los  siete  suelos).  It  is  famous  in  the 
neighborhood  as  the  scene  of  strange  apparitions  and  Moorish 
enchantments.  According  to  Swinburne  the  traveller,  it  was 
originally  the  great  gate  of  entrance.  The  antiquaries  of  Gra- 
nada pronounce  it  the  entrance  to  that  quarter  of  the  royal  resi- 
dence where  the  king's  body-guards  were  stationed.  It  there- 
fore might  well  form  an  immediate  entrance  and  exit  to  the 
palace ;  while  the  grand  Gate  of  Justice  served  as  the  entrance 

*  Ay  una  puerta  en  la  Alhambra  por  la  qual  salio  Chico  Rey  de  loe 
Moros,  quando  si  rindio  prisionero  al  Rey  de  Espana  D.  Fernando,  y  le 
f»ntreg6  la  ciudad  con  el  Castillo.  Pidio  esta  principe  como  por  merced,  y  en 
memoria  de  tan  importante  conquista,  al  que  quedasse  siempre  cerrada  csta 
puerta.  Consintio  en  allo  el  Rey  Fernando,  y  des  de  aquel  tiempo  no  sola- 
menie  no  se  abrio  la  puerta  sino  tambien  se  construyo  junto  a  ella  fuerto 
bastioa — MOUEKI'S  Historical  Dictionary,  Spanish  Edition,  VoL  i.  p.  3*72, 


MEMENTOS   OF  BOABDIL.  151 

of  state  to  the  fortress.  When  Boabdil  sallied  by  this  gate  to 
descend  to  the  Yega,  where  he  was  to  surrender  the  keys  of  the 
city  to  the  Spanish  sovereigns,  he  left  his  vizier  Aben  Comixa  to 
receive,  at  the  Gate  of  Justice,  the  detachment  from  the  Christian 
army  and  the  officers  to  whom  the  fortress  was  to  be  given  up.* 

The  once  redoubtable  Tower  of  the  Seven  Floors  is  now  a 
mere  wreck,  having  been  blown  up  with  gunpowder  by  the  French 
when  they  abandoned  the  fortress.  Great  masses  of  the  wall  lie 
scattered  about,  buried  in  luxuriant  herbage,  or  overshadowed 
by  vines  and  fig-trees.  The  arch  of  the  gateway,  though  rent  by 
the  shock,  still  remains ;  but  the  last  wish  of  poor  Boabdil  has 
again,  though  unintentionally,  been  fulfilled,  for  the  portal  has 
been  closed  up  by  loose  stones  gathered  from  the  ruins,  and  re- 
mains impassable. 

Mounting  my  horse,  I  followed  up  the  route  of  the  Moslem 
monarch  from  this  place  of  his  exit.  Crossing  the  hill  of  Los 
Martyros,  and  keeping  along  the  garden  wall  of  a  convent  bearing 
the  same  name,  I  descended  a  rugged  ravine  beset  by  thickets 
of  aloes  and  Indian  figs,  and  lined  with  caves  and  hovels  swarm- 
ing with  gipsies.  The  descent  was  so  steep  and  broken  that  I 
was  fain  to  alight  and  lead  my  horse.  By  this  via  dolorosa  poor 
Boabdil  took  his  sad  departure  to  avoid  passing  through  the  city ; 
partly,  perhaps,  through  unwillingness  that  its  inhabitants  should 
behold  his  humiliation;  but  chiefly,  in  all  probability,  lest  it 
might  cause  some  popular  agitation.  For  the  last  reason,  un- 
doubtedly, the  detachment  sent  to  take  possession  of  the  fortress 
ascended  by  the  same  route. 

*  The  minor  details  of  the  surrender  of  Granada  have  been  stated  in 
different  ways  even  by  eye-witnesses.  The  author,  in  his  revised  edition  of 
the  Conquest,  has  endeavored  to  adjust  them  according  to  the  latest  and  ap- 
parently best  authorities. 


MEMENTOS   OF   BOABDIL. 

Emerging  from  this  rough  ravine,  so  full  of  melancholy  asso- 
ciations, and  passing  by  the  puerla  de  los  molinos  (the  gate  of  the 
mills),  I  issued  forth  upon  the  public  promenade  called  the 
Prado  ;  and  pursuing  the  course  of  the  Xenil,  arrived  at  a  small 
chapel,  once  a  mosque,  now  the  Hermitage  of  San  Sebastian 
Here,  according  to  tradition,  Boabdil  surrendered  the  keys  of 
Granada  to  King  Ferdinand.  I  rode  slowly  thence  across  tho 
Vega  to  a  village  where  the  family  and  household  of  the  unhappy 
king  awaited  him.  for  he  had  sent  them  forward  on  the  preceding 
night  from  the  Alhambra,  that  his  mother  and  wife  might  not 
participate  in  his  personal  humiliation,  or  be  exposed  to  the 
gaze  of  the  conquerors.  Following  on  in  the  route  of  the  melan- 
choly band  of  royal  exiles,  I  arrived  at  the  foot  of  a  chain  of  bar- 
ren and  dreary  heights,  forming  the  skirt  of  the  Alpuxarra 
mountains.  From  the  summit  of  one  of  these  the  unfortunate 
Boabdil  took  his  last  look  at  Granada  ;  it  bears  a  name  expres- 
sive of  his  sorrows/  La  Cuesta  de  las  Lagrimas  (the  hill  of 
tears).  Beyond  it,  a  sandy  road  winds  across  a  rugged  cheerless 
waste,  doubly  dismal  to  the  unhappy  monarch,  as  it  led  to  exile. 

I  spurred  my  horse  to  the  summit  of  a  rock,  where  Boabdil 
uttered  his  last  sorrowful  exclamation,  as  he  turned  his  eyes 
from  taking  their  farewell  gaze :  it  is  still  denominated  el  idti- 
mo  suspiro  del  Moro  (the  last  sigh  of  the  Moor).  Who  can  won- 
der at  his  anguish  at  being  expelled  from  such  a  kingdom  and 
such  an  abode  ?  "With  the  Alhambra  he  seemed  to  be  yielding 
up  all  the  honors  of  his  line,  and  all  the  glories  and  delights  of 
life. 

It  was  here,  too,  that  his  affliction  was  embittered  by  the  re- 
proach of  his  mother,  Ayxa,  who  had  so  often  assisted  him  in 
times  of  peril,  and  had  vainly  sought  to  instil  into  him  her  own 


MEMENTOS   OF   BOABDIL.  153 

resolute  spirit.  "  You  do  well,"  said  she,  "  to  weep  as  a  woman 
over  what  you  could  not  defend  as  a  man ;"  a  speech  savoring 
more  of  the  pride  of  the  princess  than  the  tenderness  of  the 
mother. 

When  this  anecdote  was  related  to  Charles  Y,  by  bishop 
Guevara,  the  emperor  joined  in  the  expression  of  scorn  at  the 
weakness  of  the  wavering  Boabdil.  "Had  I  been  he,  or  he 
been  I,"  said  the  haughty  potentate,  "I  would  rather  have 
made  this  Alhambra  my  sepulchre  than  have  lived  without  a 
kingdom  in  the  Alpuxarra."  How  easy  it  is  for  those  in  power 
and  prosperity  to  preach  heroism  to  the  vanquished  !  how  littlo 
can  they  understand  that  life  itself  may  rise  in  value  with  the 
unfortunate,  when  nought  but  life  remains  ! 

Slowly  descending  the  "  Hill  of  Tears  ;"  I  let  my  horse 
take  his  own  loitering  gait  back  to  Granada,  while  I  turned 
the  story  of  the  unfortunate  Boabdil  over  in  my  mind.  In 
summing  up  the  particulars  I  found  the  balance  inclining  in 
his  favor.  Throughout  the  whole  of  his  brief,  turbulent,  and 
disastrous  reign,  he  gives  evidence  of  a  mild  and  amiable 
character.  He,  in  the  first  instance,  won  the  hearts  of  his 
people  by  his  affable  and  gracious  manners ;  he  was  always 
placable,  and  never  inflicted  any  severity  of  punishment  upon 
those  who  occasionally  rebelled  against  him.  He  was  personally 
brave ;  but  wanted  moral  courage ;  and,  in  times  of  difficulty 
and  perplexity,  was  wavering  and  irresolute.  This  feebleness  of 
spirit  hastened  his  downfall,  while  it  deprived  him  of  that 
heroic  grace  which  would  have  given  grandeur  and  dignity  to 
his  fate,  and  rendered  him  worthy  of  closing  the  splendid  drama 
of  the  Moslem  domination  in  Spain. ' 

7* 


PUBLIC  FETES  OF  GRANADA. 

MY  devoted  squire  and  whilom  ragged  cicerone  Mateo  Xiinenes, 
had  a  poor-devil  passion  for  fetes  and  holidays,  and  was  never  so 
eloquent  as  when  detailing  the  civil  and  religious  festivals  of 
Granada.  During  the  preparations  for  the  annual  Catholic  fete 
of  Corpus  Christi,  he  was  in  a  state  of  incessant  transition  be- 
tween the  Alhambra  and  the  subjacent  city,  bringing  me  daily 
accounts  of  the  magnificent  arrangements  that  were  in  progress, 
and  endeavoring,  but  in  vain,  to  lure  me  down  from  my  cool  and 
airy  retreat  to  witness  them.  At  length,  on  the  eve  of  the  event- 
ful day  I  yielded  to  his  solicitations  and  descended  from  the 
regal  halls  of  the  Alhambra  under  his  escort,  as  did  of  yore  the 
adventure-seeking  Haroun  Alraschid,  under  that  of  his  Grand 
Vizier  Giaffar.  Though  it  was  yet  scarce  sunset,  the  city  gates 
were  already  thronged  with  the  picturesque  villagers  of  the  moun- 
tains, and  the  brown  jpeasan try  of  the  Vega.  Granada  has  ever 
been  the  rallying  place  of  a  great  mountainous  region,  studded 
with  towns  and  villages.  Hither,  during  the  Moorish  domination, 
the  chivalry  of  this  region  repaired,  to  join  in  the  splendid  and 
semi-warlike  fetes  of  the  Vivarrambla,  and  hither  the  6lite  of  its 
population  still  resort  to  join  in  the  pompous  ceremonials  of  the 
church.  Indeed,  many  of  the  mountaineers  from  the  Alpuxarras 


THE  VIVAHKAMBLA.  155 

and  the  Sierra  de  Honda,  who  now  bow  to  the  cross  as  zealous 
Catholics,  bear  the  stamp  of  their  Moorish  origin,  and  are  indubi- 
table descendants  of  the  fickle  subjects  of  Boabdil. 

Under  the  guidance  of  Mateo,  I  made  my  way  through  streets 
already  teeming  with  a  holiday  population,  to  the  square  of  the 
Vivarrainbla,  that  great  place  for  tilts  and  tourneys,  so  often 
sung  in  the  Moorish  ballads  of  love  and  chivalry.  A  gallery  or 
arcade  of  wood  had  been  erected  along  the  sides  of  the  square, 
for  the  grand  religious  procession  of  the  following  day.  This  was 
brilliantly  illuminated  for  the  evening  as  a  promenade ;  and  bands 
of  music  were  stationed  on  balconies  on  each  of  the  four  fagades 
of  the  square.  All  the  fashion  and  beauty  of  Granada,  all  of  its 
population  of  either  sex  that  had  good  looks  or  fine  clothes  to  dis- 
play, thronged  this  arcade,  promenading  round  and  round  the 
Vivarrambla.  Here,  too,  were  the  Majos  and  Majas,  the  rural 
beaux  and  belles,  with  fine  forms,  flashing  eyes,  and  gay  Andalu- 
sian  costumes ;  some  of  them  from  Honda  itself,  that  strong-hold 
of  the  mountains,  famous  for  contrabandistas,  bull-fighters,  and 
beautiful  women. 

While  this  gay  but  motley  throng  kept  up  a  constant  circulation 
in  the  gallery,  the  centre  of  the  square  was  occupied  by  the  pea- 
santry from  the  surrounding  country ;  who  made  no  pretensions  to 
display,  but  came  for  simple,  hearty  enjoyment.  The  whole  square 
was  covered  with  them ;  forming  separate  groups  of  families  and 
neighborhoods,  like  gipsy  encampments,  some  were  listening  to 
the  traditional  ballad  drawled  out  to  the  tinkling  of  the  guitar ; 
some  were  engaged  in  gay  conversation ;  some  were  dancing  to 
the  click  of  the  castanet.  As  I  threaded  my  way  through  this 
teeming  region  with  Mateo  at  my  heels,  I  passed  occasionally 
some  rustic  party,  seated  on  the  ground,  making  a  merry  though 


156  THE  VIVAEEAMBLA. 

frugal  repast.  If  they  caught  my  eye  as  I  loitered  by,  they 
almost  invariably  invited  me  to  partake  of  their  simple  fare. 
This  hospitable  usage,  inherited  from  their  Moslem  invaders,  and 
originating  in  the  tent  of  the  Arab,  is  universal  throughout  the 
land,  and  observed  by  the  poorest  Spaniard. 

As  the  night  advanced,  the  gayety  gradually  died  away  in  the 
arcades;  the  bands  of  music  ceased  to  play,  and  the  brilliant 
crowd  dispersed  to  their  homes.  The  centre  of  the  square  still 
remained  well  peopled,  and  Mateo  assured  me  that  the  greater 
part  of  the  peasantry,  men,  women,  and  children,  would  pass  the 
night  there,  sleeping  on  the  bare  earth  beneath  the  open  canopy 
of  heaven.  Indeed,  a  summer  night  requires  no  shelter  in  this 
favored  climate ;  and  a  bed  is  a  superfluity,  which  many  of  the 
hardy  peasantry  of  Spain  never  enjoy,  and  which  some  of  them 
affect  to  despise.  The  common  Spaniard  wraps  himself  in  his 
brown  cloak,  stretches  himself  on  his  manta  or  mule-cloth,  and 
sleeps  soundly,  luxuriously  accommodated  if  he  can  have  a  saddle 
for  a  pillow.  In  a  little  while  the  words  of  Mateo  were  made 
good ;  the  peasant  multitude  nestled  down  on  the  ground  to  their 
night's  repose,  and  by  midnight,  the  scene  on  the  Yivarrambla 
resembled  the  bivouac  of  an  army. 

The  next  morning,  accompanied  by  Mateo,  I  revisited  the 
square  at  -sunrise.  It  was  still  strewed  with  groups  of  sleepers  : 
some  were  reposing  from  the  dance  and  revel  of  the  evening ; 
others,  who  had  left  their  villages  after  work  on  the  preceding  day, 
having  trudged  on  foot  the  greater  part  of  the  night,  were  taking 
a  sound  sleep  to  freshen  themselves  for  the  festivities  of  the  day. 
Numbers  from  the  mountains,  and  the  remote  villages  of  the  plain, 
who  had  set  out  in  the  night,  continued  to  arrive  with  their  wives 
and  children.  All  were  in  high  spirits  ;  greeting  each  other  and 


THE   PROCESSION.  157 

exchanging  jokes  and  pleasantries.  The  gay  tumult  thickened 
as  the  day  advanced.  Now  came  pouring  in  at  the  city  gates, 
and  parading  through  the  streets,  the  deputations  from  the 
various  villages,  destined  to  swell  the  grand  procession. 
These  village  deputations  were  headed  by  their  priests,  bearing 
heir  respective  crosses  and  banners,  and  images  of  the  blessed 
Virgin  and  of  patron  saints ;  all  which  were  matters  of  great 
rivalship  and  jealousy  among  the  peasantry.  It  was  like  the 
chivalrous  gatherings  of  ancient  days,  when  each  town  and  vil- 
lage sent  its  chiefs,  and  warriors,  and  standards,  to  defend  the 
capital,  or  grace  its  festivities. 

At  length  all  these  various  detachments  congregated  into  one 
grand  pageant,  which  slowly  paraded  round  the  Vivarrambla, 
and  through  the  principal  streets,  where  every  window  and  bal- 
cony was  hung  with  tapestry.  In  this  procession  were  all  the 
religious  orders,  the  civil  and  military  authorities,  and  the  chief 
people  of  the  parishes  and  villages :  every  church  and  convent 
had  contributed  its  banners,  its  images,  its  relics,  and  poured 
forth  its  wealth  for  the  occasion.  In  the  centre  of  the  procession 
walked  the  archbishop,  under  a  damask  canopy,  and  surrounded 
by  inferior  dignitaries  and  their  dependants.  The  whole  moved 
to  the  swell  and  cadence  of  numerous  bands  of  music,  and,  passing 
through  the  midst  of  a  countless  yet  silent  multitude,  proceeded 
onward  to  the  cathedral. 

I  could  not  but  be  struck  with  the  changes  of  times  and  cus- 
toms, as  I  saw  this  monkish  pageant  passing  through  tire  Vivar- 
rambla, the  ancient  seat  of  Moslem  pomp  and  chivalry.  The 
contrast  was  indeed  forced  upon  the  mind  by  the  decorations  of 
the  square.  The  whole  front  of  the  wooden  gallery  erected  for 
the  procession,  extending  several  hundred  feet,  was  faced  with 
7* 


158  EL  DIA  DE  LA  TOMA. 

canvas,  on  which  some  humble  though  patriotic  artist  had 
painted,  by  contract,  a  series  of  the  principal  scenes  and  exploits 
of  the  conquest,  as  recorded  in  chronicle  and  romance.  It  ia 
thus  the  romantic  legends  of  Granada  mingle  themselves  with 
every  thing,  and  are  kept  fresh  in  the  public  mind. 

As  we  wended  our  way  back  to  the  Alhambra,  Mateo  was  in 
high  glee  and  garrulous  vein.  "  Ah,  Senor,"  exclaimed  he, 
"there  is  no  place  in  all  the  world  like  Granada  for  grand 
ceremonies,  (funciones  grandes),  a  man  need  spend  nothing  on 
pleasure  here,  it  is  all  furnished  him  gratis."  '  Pero,  el  dia  do  la 
Toma  !  Ah  Senor  !  el  dia  de  la  Toma !  "  But  the  day  of  the 
Taking  !  ah,  Seiior,  the  day  of  the  Taking ;" — that  was  the  great 
day  which  crowned  Mateo's  notions  of  perfect  felicity.  The  Dia 
de  la  Toma,  I  found,  was  the  anniversary  of  the  capture  or  taking 
possession  of  Granada,  by  the  army  of  Ferdinand  and  Isabella. 

On  that  day,  according  to  Mateo,  the  whole  city  is  abandoned 
to  revelry.  The  great  alarm  bell  on  the  watchtower  of  the  Al- 
hambra (la  Torre  de  la  vela),  sends  forth  its  clanging  peals  from 
morn  till  night ;  the  sound  pervades  the  whole  Vega,  and  echoes 
along  the  mountains,  summoning  the  peasantry  from  far  and  near 
to  the  festivities  of  the  metropolis.  "  Happy  the  damsel,"  says 
Mateo,  "  who  can  get  a  chance  to  ring  that  bell ;  it  is  a  charm  to 
insure  a  husband  within  the  year." 

Throughout  the  day  the  Alhambra  is  thrown  open  to  the  pub- 
lic. Its  halls  and  courts,  where  the  Moorish  monarchs  once  held 
sway,  resound  with  the  guitar  and  castanet,  and  gay  groups,  in 
the  fanciful  dresses  of  Andalusia,  perform  their  traditional  dances 
inherited  from  the  Moors. 

A  grand  procession,  emblematic  of  the  taking  possession  of 
the  city,  moves  through  the  principal  streets.  The  banner  of 


THE   AVE   MAEIA.  159 

Ferdinand  and  Isabella,  that  precious  relic  of  the  Conquest,  is 
brought  forth  from  its  depository,  and  borne  in  triumph  by  the 
A.lferez  mayor,  or  grand  standard-bearer.  The  portable  camp- 
iltar,  carried  about  with  the  sovereigns  in  all  their  campaigns,  is 
ransported  into  the  chapel  royal  of  the  cathedral,  and  placed  be- 
,bre  their  sepulchre,  where  their  effigies  lie  in  monumental  mar- 
ble. High  mass  is  then  performed  in  memory  of  the  Conquest) 
and  at  a  certain  part  of  the  ceremony  the  Alferez  mayor  puts 
on  his  hat,  and  waves  the  standard  above  the  tomb  of  the  con- 
querors. 

A  more  whimsical  memorial  of  the  Conquest  is  exhibited  in 
the  evening  at  the  theatre.  A  popular  drama  is  performed,  en- 
titled AVE  MARIA,  turning  on  a  famous  achievement  of  Hernando 
del  Pulgar,  surnamed  "  el  de  las  Hazanas  "  (he  of  the  exploits), 
a  madcap  warrior,  the  favorite  hero  of  the  populace  of  Granada. 
During  the  ^time  of  the  siege,  the  young  Moorish  and  Spanish 
cavaliers  vied  with  each  other  in  extravagant  bravadoes.  On 
one  occasion  this  Hernando  del  Pulgar,  at  the  head  of  a  handful 
of  followers,  made  a  dash  into  Granada  in  the  dead  of  the  night, 
nailed  the  inscription  of  AVE  MARIA  with  his  dagger  to  the  gate 
of  the  principal  mosque,  a  token  of  having  consecrated  it  to  the 
Virgin,  and  effected  his  retreat  in  safety.* 

"While  the  Moorish  cavaliers  admired  this  daring  exploit, 
they  felt  bound  to  resent  it.  On  the  following  day,  therefore, 
Tarfe,  one  of  the  stoutest  among  them,  paraded  in  front  of  the 
Christian  army,  dragging  the  tablet  bearing  the  sacred  inscrip- 
tion AVE  MARIA,  at  his  horse's  tail.  The  cause  of  the  Virgin 
was  eagerly  vindicated  by  Garcilaso  de  la  Vega,  who  slew  the 

*  See  a  more  detailed  account  of  the  exploit  in  the  chronicle  of  the 
Conquest  of  Granada. 


160  THE   AYE   MAKIA. 

Moor  in  single  combat,  and  elevated  the  tablet  in  devotion  and 
triumph  at  the  end  of  his  lance. 

The  drama  founded  on  this  exploit  is  prodigiously  popular 
with  the  common  people.  Although  it  has  been  acted  time  out  of 
mind,  it  never  fails  to  draw  crowds,  who  become  completely  lost  in 
the  delusions  of  the  scene.  When  their  favorite  Pulgar  strides 
about  with  many  a  mouthy  speech,  in  the  very  midst  of  the 
Moorish  capital,  he  is  cheered  with  enthusiastic  bravos ;  and 
when  he  nails  the  tablet  to  the  door  of  the  mosque,  the  theatre 
absolutely  shakes  with  the  thunders  of  applause.'  On  the  other 
hand,  the  unlucky  actors  who  figure  in  the  part  of  the  Moors, 
have  to  bear  the  brunt  of  popular  indignation ;  which  at  times 
equals  that  of  the  Hero  of  Lamanche,  at  the  puppet-show  of 
Gines  de  Passamonte  ;  for,  when  the  infidel  Tarfe  plucks  down 
the  tablet  to  tie  it  to  his  horse's  tail,  some  of  the  audience  rise  in 
fury,  and  are  ready  to  jump  upon  the  stage  to  revenge  this  insult 
to  the  Virgin. 

By  the  way,  the  actual  lineal  descendant  of  Hernando  del 
Pulgar;  was  the  Marquis  de  Salar.  As  the  legitimate  representa- 
tive of  that  madcap  hero,  and  in  commemoration  and  reward  of 
this  hero's  exploit,  above  mentioned,  he  inherited  the  right  to  en- 
ter the  cathedral  on  certain  occasions,  on  horseback  ;  to  sit  within 
the  choir,  and  to  put  on  his  hat  at  the  elevation  of  the  host, 
though  these  privileges  were  often  and  obstinately  contested  by 
the  clergy.  I  met  him  occasionally  in  society ;  he  was  young, 
of  agreeable  appearance  and  manners,  with  bright  black  eyes,  in 
which  appeared  to  lurk  some  of  the  fire  of  his  ancestors.  Among 
the  paintings  in  the  Vivarrambla,  on  the  fete  of  Corpus  Christi. 
were  some  depicting,  in  vivid  style,  the  exploits  of  the  family 
hero.  An  old  gray-headed  servant  of  the  Pulgars  shed  tears  on 


VILLAGE   CEREMONIALS.  161 

beholding  them,  and  hurried  home  to  inform  the  marquis.  The 
eager  zeal  and  enthusiasm  of  the  old  domestic  only  provoked  a 
light  laugh  from  his  young  master ;  whereupon,  turning  to  the 
brother  of  the  marquis,  with  that  freedom  allowed  in  Spain  to  old 
family  servants.  "  Come,  Senor,"  cried  he,  "  you  are  more  consi- 
derate than  your  brother  ;  come  and  see  your  ancestor  in  all  his 
glory  !" 

In  emulation  of  this  great  Dia  de  la  Toma  of  Granada,  al- 
most every  village  and  petty  town  of  the  mountains  has  its  own 
anniversary,  commemorating,  with  rustic  pomp  and  uncouth 
ceremonial,  its  deliverance  from  the  Moorish  yoke.  On  these 
occasions,  according  to  Mateo,  a  kind  of  resurrection  takes  place 
of  ancient  armor  and  weapons  ;  great  two-handed  swords,  pon- 
derous  arquebuses  with  matchlocks,  and  other  warlike  relics, 
treasured  up  from  generation  to  generation,  since  the  time  of  the 
Conquest ;  and  happy  the  community  that  possesses  some  old 
piece  of  ordnance,  peradventure  one  of  the  identical  lombards 
used  by  the  conquerors ;  it  is  kept  thundering  along  the  moun- 
tains all  day  long,  provided  the  community  can  afford  sufficient 
expenditure  of  powder. 

In  the  course  of  the  day,  a  kind  of  warlike  drama  is  enacted. 
Some  of  the  populace  parade  the  streets,  fitted  out  with  the  old 
armor,  as  champions  of  the  faith.  Others  appear  dressed  up  as 
Moorish  warriors.  A  tent  is  pitched  in  the  public  square,  in- 
closing an  altar  with  an  image  of  the  Virgin.  The  Christian 
warriors  approach  to  perform  their  devotions  ;  the  infidels  sur- 
round the  tent  to  prevent  their  entrance  ;  a  mock  fight  ensues ; 
the  combatants  sometimes  forget  that  they  are  merely  playing  a 
part,  and  dry  blows  of  grievous  weight  are  apt  to  be  exchanged. 
The  contest,  however,  invariably  terminates  in  favor  of  the  good 


162  A   CHKISTIANO   VIEJO. 

cause.  The  Moors  are  defeated  and  taken  prisoners.  The 
image  of  the  Virgin,  rescued  from  thraldom,  is  elevated  in  tri- 
umph ;  a  grand  procession  succeeds,  in  which  the  conquerors 
figure  with  great  applause  and  vainglory ;  while  their  captives 
are  led  in  chains,  to  the  evident  delight  and  edification  of  the 
spectators. 

These  celebrations  are  heavy  drains  on  the  treasuries  of  these 
petty  communities,  and  have  sometimes  to  be  suspended  for  want 
of  funds  ;  but,  when  times  grow  better,  or  sufficient  money  has 
been  hoarded  for  the  purpose,  they  are  resumed  with  new  zeal 
and  prodigality. 

Mateo  informed  me  that  he  had  occasionally  assisted  at  these 
f6tes  and  taken  a  part  in  the  combats ;  but  always  on  the  side  of 
the  true  faith ;  porque  Sefior^  added  the  ragged  descendant  of 
the  cardinal  Ximenes,  tapping  his  breast  with  something  of  an 
air,  "  porque  Senor,  &oy  Christiana  vieyo" 


LOCAL  TRADITIONS. 

THE  common  people  of  Spain  have  an  Oriental  passion  for  story 
telling,  and  are  fond  of  the  marvellous.  They  will  gather  round 
the  doors  of  their  cottages  in  summer  evenings,  or  in  the  great 
cavernous  chimney-corners  of  the  ventas  in  the  winter,  and  listen 
with  insatiable  delight  to  miraculous  legends  of  saints,  perilous 
adventures  of  travellers,  and  daring  exploits  of  robbers  and  con- 
trabandistas.  The  wild  and  solitary  character  of  the  country,  the 
imperfect  diffusion  of  knowledge,  the  scarceness  of  general  topics 
of  conversation,  and  the  romantic  adventurous  life  that  every  one 
leads  in  a  land  where  travelling  is  yet  in  its  primitive  state,  all 
contribute  to  cherish  this  love  of  oral  narration,  and  to  produce  a 
strong  infusion  of  the  extravagant  and  incredible.  There  is  no 
theme,  however,  more  prevalent  and  popular  than  that  of  trea- 
sures buried  by  the  Moors  ;  it  pervades  the  whole  country.  In 
traversing  the  wild  sierras,  the  scenes  of  ancient  foray  and  ex- 
ploit, you  cannot  see  a  Moorish  atalaya,  or  watchtower,  perched 
among  the  cliffs,  or  beetling  above  its  rock-built  village,  but  your 
muleteer,  on  being  closely  questioned,  will  suspend  the  smoking 
of  his  cigarillo  to  tell  some  tale  of  Moslem  gold  buried  beneath 
its  foundations  ;  nor  is  there  a  ruined  alcazar  in  a  city  but  has 
its  golden  tradition,  handed  down  from  generation  to  generation 
among  the  poor  people  of  the  neighborhood. 


16i  BUKIED   TEEASUEE. 

These,  like  most  popular  fictions,  have  sprung  from  somo 
scanty  groundwork  of  fact.  During  the  wars  between  Moor  and 
Christian  which  distracted  this  country  for  centuries,  towns  and 
castles  were  liable  frequently  and  suddenly  to  change  owners,  and 
the  inhabitants,  during  sieges  and  assaults,  were  fain  to  bury 
their  money  and  jewels  in  the  earth,  or  hide  them  in  vaults  and 
wells,  as  is  often  done  at  the  present  day  in  the  despotic  and 
belligerent  countries  of  the  East.  At  the  time  of  the  expulsion 
of  the  Moors  also,  many  of  them  concealed  their  most  precious 
effects,  hoping  that  their  exile  would  be  but  temporary,  and  that 
they  would  be  enabled  to  return  and  retrieve  their  treasures  at 
some  future  day..  It  is  certain  that  from  time  to  time  hoards  of 
gold  and  silver  coin  have  been  accidentally  digged  up,  after  a  lapse 
of  centuries,  from  among  the  ruins  of  Moorish  fortresses  and 
habitations ;  and  it  requires  but  a  few  facts  of  the  kind  to  give 
birth  to  a  thousand  fictions. 

The  stories  thus  originating  have  generally  something  of  an 
Oriental  tinge,  and  are  marked  with  that  mixture  of  the  Arabic 
and  the  Gothic  which  seems  to  me  to  characterize  every  thing  in 
Spain,  and  especially  in  its  southern  provinces.  The  hidden 
wealth  is  always  laid  under  magic  spell,  and  secured  by  charm 
and  talisman.  Sometimes  it  is  guarded  by  uncouth  monsters  or 
fiery  dragons,  sometimes  by  enchanted  Moors,  who  sit  by  it  in 
armor,  with  drawn  swords,  but  motionless  as  statues,  maintaining 
a  sleepless  watch  for  ages. 

The  Alhambra  of  course,  from  the  peculiar  circumstances  of 
its  history,  is  a  strong-hold  for  popular  fictions  of  the  kind ;  and 
various  relics,  digged  up  from  time  to  time,  have  contributed  to 
strengthen  them.  At  one  time  an  earthen  vessel  was  found  con- 
taining Moorish  coins  and  the  skeleton  of  a  cock,  which,  according 


MARVELLOUS  TRADITIONS.  165 

to  the  opinion  of  certain  shrewd  inspectors,  must  have  been  buried 
alive.  At  another  time  a  vessel  was  dug  up  containing  a  great 
scarabacus  or  beetle  of  baked  clay,  covered  with  Arabic  inscrip- 
tions, which  was  pronounced  a  prodigious  amulet  of  occult  vir- 
tues In  this  way  the  wits  of  the  ragged  brood  who  inhabit  the 
Alhambra  have  been  set  wool-gathering,  until  there  is  not  a  hall, 
nor  tower,  nor  vault,  of  the  old  fortress,  that  has  not  been  made 
the  scene  of  some  marvellous  tradition.  Having,  T  trust,  in  the 
preceding  papers  made  the  reader  in  some  degree  familiar  with 
the  localities  of  the  Alhambra,  I  shall  now  launch  out  more 
largely  into  the  wonderful  legends  connected  with  it,  and  which  I 
have  diligently  wrought  into  shape  and  form,  from  various  legend- 
ary scraps  and  hints  picked  up  in  the  course  of  my  perambula- 
tions ;  in  the  same  manner,  that  an  antiquary  works  out  a  regular 
historical  document  from  a  few  scattered  letters'  of  an  almost 
defaced  inscription. 

If  any  thing  in  these  legends  should  shock  the  faith  of  the 
over-scrupulous  reader,  he  must  remember  the  nature  of  the  place, 
and  make  due  allowances.  He  must  not  expect  here  the  same 
laws  of  probability  that  govern  commonplace  scenes  and  every- 
day life ;  he  must  remember  that  he  treads  the  halls  of  an  en- 
chanted palace,  and  that  all  is  "  haunted  ground." 


THE  HOUSE  OF  THE  WEATHERCOCK. 

ON  the  brow  of  the  lofty  hill  of  the  Albaycin.  the  highest  part  of 
Granada,  and  which  rises  from  the  narrow  valley  of  the  Darro, 
directly  opposite  to  the  Alhambra,  stands  all  that  is  left  of  what 
was  once  a  royal  palace  of  the  Moors.  It  has,  in  fact,  fallen  into 
such  obscurity,  that  it  cost  me  much  trouble  to  find  it ;  though 
aided  in  my  researches,  by  the  sagacious  and  all-knowing  Mateo 
Ximenes.  This  edifice  has  borne  for  centuries  the  name  of  "  The 
House  of  the  Weathercock  "  (La  casa  del  Gallo  de  Viento).  from 
a  bronze  figure  on  one  of  its  turrets,  in  ancient  times,  of  a  war- 
rior on  horseback,  and  turning  with  every  breeze.  This  weather- 
cock was  considered  by  the  Moslems  of  Granada  a  portentous 
talisman.  According  to  some  traditions,  it  bore  the  following 
Arabic  inscription : 

Calet  el  Bedici  Aben  Habuz, 
Quidat  ehahet  Lindabuz. 

Which  has  been  rendered  into  Spanish  : 

Dice  el  sabio  Aben  Habuz, 

Que  asi  se  defiende  el  Anduluz. 
And  into  English : 

In  thia  way,  says  Aben  Habus  the  wise, 

.Vndaluz  guards  against  surprise. 


THE  TALISMAN.  167 

This  Aben  Habuz,  according  to  some  of  the  old  Moorish 
chronicles,  was  a  captain  in  the" invading  army  of  Taric,  one  of 
the  conquerors  of  Spain,  who  left  him  as  Alcayde  of  Granada, 
He  is  supposed  to  have  intended  this  effigy  as  a  perpetual  warn- 
ing to  the  Moslems  of  Andaluz,  that,  surrounded  by  foes,  their 
safety  depended  upon  their  being  always  on  their  guard  and  ready 
for  the  field. 

Others,  among  whom  is  the  Christian  historian  Marmol, 
affirms  '  Badis  Aben  Habus  '  to  have  been  a  Moorish  sultan  of 
Granada,  and  that  the  weathercock  was  intended  as  a  perpetual 
admonition  of  the  instability  of  Moslem  power,  bearing  the  fol- 
lowing words  in  Arabic : 

"  Thus  Ibn  Habus  al  badise  predicts  Andalus  shall  one  day 
vanish  and  pass  away."* 

Another  version  of  this  portentous  inscription  is  given  by  a 
Moslem  historian,  on  the  authority  of  Sidi  Hasan,  a  faquir  whc 
flourished  about  the  time  of  Ferdinand  and  Isabella,  and  who 
was  present  at  the  taking  down  of  the  weathercock,  when  the  old 
Kassaba  was  undergoing  repairs. 

"  I  saw  it,"  says  the  venerable  faquir,  "  with  my  own  eyes  ; 
it  was  of  a  heptagonal  shape,  and  had  the  following  inscription 
in  verse: 

"  The  palace  at  fair  Granada  presents  a  talisman." 

"  The  horseman,  though  a  solid  body,  turns  with  every  wind." 

"  This  to  a  wise  man  reveals  a  mystery.  In  a  little  whife  comes 
a  calamity  to  ruin  both  the  palace  and  its  owner." 

In  effect  it  was  not  long  after  this  meddling  with  the  porten- 
tous weathercock  that  the  following  event  occurred.  As  old  Muley 
Abul  Hassan,  the  king  of  Granada,  was  seated  under  a  sumptuous 

*  MAEMOL,  Hist.  Rebellion  of  the  Moors. 


168  THE    TEMPEST. 

pavilion,  reviewing  his  troops  who  paraded  before  him  in  armor 
of  polished  steel,  and  gorgeous  silken  robes,  mounted  on  fleet 
steeds,  and  equipped  with  swords,  spears  and  shields,  embossed 
with  gold  and  silver;  suddenly  a  tempest  was  seen  hurrying 
from  the  south-west.  In  a  little  while,  black  clouds  overshadowed 
the  heavens  and  burst  forth  with  a  deluge  of  rain.  Torrents 
came  roaring  down  from  the  mountains,  bringing  with  them  rocks 
and  trees ;  the  Darro  overflowed  its  banks ;  mills  were  swept 
away ;  bridges  destroyed,  gardens  laid  waste ;  the  inundation 
rushed  into  the  city,  undermining  houses,  drowning  their  inhab- 
itants, and  overflowing  even  the  square  of  the  Great  Mosque. 
The  people  rushed  in  affright  to  the  mosques  to  implore  the 
mercy  of  Allah,  regarding  this  uproar  of  the  elements  as  the  har- 
binger of  dreadful  calamities ;  and,  indeed,  according  to  the 
Arabian  historian,  Al  Makkari,  it  was  but  a  type  and  prelude 
of  the  direful  war  which  ended  in  the  .  downfall  of  the  Moslem 
kingdom  of  Granada. 

I  have  thus  given  historic  authorities,  sufficient  to  show  the 
portentous  mysteries  connected  with  the  House  of  the  "Weather- 
cock, and  its  talismanic  horseman. 

I  now  proceed  to  relate  still  more  surprising  things  about 
Aben  Habuz  and  his  palace ;  for  the  truth  of  which,  should  any 
doubt  be  entertained,  I  refer  the  dubious  reader  to  Mateo  Xime- 
nes  and  his  fellow-historiographers  of  the  Alhambra. 


LEGEND  OF  THE  ARABIAN  ASTROLOGER 

IN  old  times,  many  hundred  years  ago,  there  was  a  Moorish 
king  named  Aben  Habuz,  who  reigned  over  the  kingdom  of 
Granada.  He  was  a  retired  conqueror,  that  is  to  say,  one  who 
having  in  his  more  youthful  days  led  a  life  of  constant  foray  and 
depredation,  now  that  he  was  grown  feeble  and  superannuated, 
u  languished  for  repose,"  and  desired  nothing  more  than  to  live 
at  peace  with  all  the  world,  to  husband  his  laurels,  and  to  enjoy 
in  quiet  the  possessions  he  had  wrested  from  his  neighbors. 

It  so  happened,  however,  that  this  most  reasonable  and  pacific 
old  monarch  had  young  rivals  to  deal  with ;  princes  full  of  his 
early  passion  for  fame  and  fighting,  and  who  were  disposed  to 
call  him  to  account  for. the  scores  he  had  run  up  with  their 
fathers.  Certain  distant  districts  of  his  own  territories,  also, 
which  during  the  days  of  his  vigor  he  had  treated  with  a  high 
hand,  were  prone,  now  that  he  languished  for  repose,  to  rise  in 
rebellion  and  threaten  to  invest  him  in  his  capital.  Thus  he 
had  foes  on  every  side ;  and  as  Granada  is  surrounded  by  wild 
and  craggy  mountains,  which  hide  the  approach  of  an  enemy,  the 
unfortunate  Aben  Habuz  was  kept  in  a  constant  state  of  viligance 
and  alarm,  not  knowing  in  what  quarter  hostilities  might  break 
out. 


170  IBRAHIM   EBN   ABTJ   AYUB. 

It  was  in  vain  that  he  built  watchtowers  on  the  mountains, 
and  stationed  guards  at  every  pass  with  orders  to  make  fires  by 
night  and  smoke  by  day,  on  the  approach  of  an  enemy.  His 
alert  foes,  baffling  every  precaution,  would  break  out  of  some  un- 
thought-of  defile,  ravage  his  lands  beneath  his  very  nose,  and 
then  make  off  with  prisoners  and  booty  to  the  mountains. 
Was  ever  peaceable  and  retired  conqueror  in  a  more  uncomfort- 
able predicament  ? 

While  Aben  Habuz  was  harassed  by  these  perplexities  and 
molestations,  an  ancient  Arabian  physician  arrived  at  his  court. 
His  gray  beard  descended  to  his  girdle,  and  he  had  every  rnarK 
of  extreme  age,  yet  he  had  travelled  almost  the  whole  way  from 
Egypt  on  foot,  with  no  other  aid  than  a  staff,  marked  with  hiero- 
glyphics. His  fame  had  preceded  him.  His  name  was  Ibrahim 
Ebn  Abu  Ayub,  he  was  said  to  have  lived  ever  since  the  days  of 
Mahomet,  and  to  be  son  of  Abu  Ayub,  the  last  of  the  compan- 
ions of  the  Prophet.  He  had,  when  a  child,  followed  the  con- 
quering army  of  Amru  into  Egypt,  where  he  had  remained  many 
years  studying  the  dark  sciences,  and  particularly  magic;  a»ong 
the  Egyptian  priests. 

It  was,  moreover,  said  that  he  had  found  out  the  secret  of 
prolonging  life,  by  means  of  which  he  had  arrived  to  the  great 
age  of  upwards  of  two  centuries,  though,  as  he  did  not  discover 
the  secret  until  well  stricken  in  years,  he  could  only  perpetuate 
his  gray  hairs  and  wrinkles. 

This  wonderful  old  man  was  honorably  entertained  by  the 
king ;  who,  like  most  superannuated  monarchs,  began  to  take 
physicians  into  great  favor.  He  would  have  assigned  him  an 
apartment  in  his  palace,  but  the  astrologer  preferred  a  cave  in  the 
side  of  the  hill  which  rises  above  the  city  of  Granada,  being  the 


THE   MAKVEL   OF   EORSA. 


171 


same  on  which  the  Alhambra  has  since  been  built.  He  caused 
the  cave  to  be  enlarged  so  as  to  form  a  spacious  and  lofty  hall, 
with  a  circular  hole  at  the  top,  through  which,  as  through  a  well, 
he  could  see  the  heavens  and  behold  the  stars  even  at  mid-day. 
The  walls  of  this  hall  were  covered  with  Egyptian  hieroglyphics 
with  cabalistic  symbols,  and  with  the  figures  of  the  stars  in  their 
signs.  This  hall  he  furnished  with  many  implements,  fabricated 
under  his  directions  by  cunning  artificers  of  Granada,  but  the 
occult  properties  of  which  were  known  only  to  himself. 

In  a  little  while  the  sage  Ibrahim  became  the  bosom  coun- 
sellor of  the  king,  who  applied  to  him  for  advice  in  every  emer- 
gency. Aben  Habuz  was  once  inveighing  against  the  injustice 
of  his  neighbors,  and  bewailing  the  restless  vigilance  he  had  to 
observe  to  guard  himself  against  their  invasions ;  when  he  had 
finished,  the  astrologer  remained  silent  for  a  moment,  and  then 
replied,  "  Know,  O  King,  that  when  I  was  in  Egypt  I  beheld  a 
great  marvel  devised  by  a  pagan  priestess  of  old.  On  a  moun- 
tain, above  the  city  of  Borsa,  and  overlooking  the  great  valley  of 
the  Nile,  was  a  figure  of  a  ram,  and  above  it  a  figure  of  a  cock, 
both  of  molten  brass,  and  turning  upon  a  pivot.  "Whenever  the 
country  was  threatened  with  invasion,  the  ram  would  turn  in  the 
direction  of  the  enemy,  and  the  cock  would  crow ;  upon  this  the 
inhabitants  of  the  city  knew  of  the  danger,  and  of  the  quarter 
from  which  it  was  approaching,  and  could  take  timely  means  to 
guard  against  it." 

"  G-od  is  great !"  exclaimed  the  pacific  Aben  Habuz,  "  what  a 

• 

treasure  would  be  such  a  ram  to  keep  an  eye  upon  these  moun- 
tains around  me ;  and  then  such  a  cock,  to  crow  in  time  of  dan- 
ger !  Allah  Akbar  !  how  securely  I  might  sleep  in  my  palace 
with  such  sentinels  on  the  top  !" 


172  THE  BOOK  OF  KNOWLEDGE. 

The  astrologer  waited  until  the  ecstasies  of  the  king  had  sub- 
sided, and  then  proceeded. 

"  After  the  victorious  Amru  (may  he  rest  in  peace  !)  had  fin 
ished  his  conquest  of  Egypt,  I  remained  among  the  priests  of  the 
land,  studying  the  rites  and  ceremonies  of  their  idolatrous  faith, 
and  seeking  to  make  myself  master  of  the  hidden  knowledge  for 
which  they  are  renowned.  I  was  one  day  seated  on  the  banks  of 
the  Nile,  conversing  with  an  ancient  priest,  when  he  pointed  to 
the  mighty  pyramids  which  rose  like  mountains  out  of  the  neigh- 
boring desert.  '  All  that  we  can  teach  thee,'  said  he,  'is  nothing 
to  the  knowledge  locked  up  in  those  mighty  piles.  In  the  centre 
of  the  central  pyramid  is  a  sepulchral  chamber,  in  which  is  in- 
closed the  mummy  of  the  high-priest,  who  aided  in  rearing  that 
stupendous  pile;  and  with  him  is  buried  a  wondrous  book  of 
knowledge  containing  all  the  secrets  of  magic  and  art.  This  book 
was  given  to  Adam  after  his  fall,  and  was  handed  down  from  gen- 
eration to  generation  to  King  Solomon  the  wise,  and  by  its  aid 
he  built  the  temple  of  Jerusalem.  How  it  came  into  the  pos- 
session of  the  builder  of  the  pyramids,  is  known  to  him  alone  who 
knows  all  things.' 

"  When  I  heard  these  words  of  the  Egyptian  priest,  my  heart 
burned  to  get  possession  of  that  book.  I  could  command  the 
services  of  many  of  the  soldiers  of  our  conquering  army,  and  of 
a  number  of  the  native  Egyptians :  with  these  I  set  to  work,  and 
pierced  the  solid  mass  of  the  pyramid,  until,  after  great  toil,  I 
came  upon  one  of  its  interior  and  hidden  passages.  Following 
this  up,  and  threading  a  fearful  labyrinth,  I  penetrated  into  the 
very  heart  of  the  pyramid,  even  to  the  sepulchral  chamber,  where 
the  mummy  of  the  high-priest  had  lain  for  ages.  I  broke  through 
tho  outer  cases  of  the  mummy,  unfolded  its  many  wrappers  and 


THE   MAGIC   TOWEK.  173 

bandages,  and  at  length  found  the  precious  volume  on  its  bosom, 
I  seized  it  with  a  trembling  hand,  and  groped  my  way  out  of  the 
pyramid,  leaving  the  mummy  in  its  dark  and  silent  sepulchre, 
there  to  await  the  final  day  of  resurrection  and  judgment." 

"  Son  of  Abu  Ayub,"  exclaimed  Aben  Habuz,  "  thou  hast 
been  a  great  traveller,  and  seen  marvellous  things ;  but  of  whafc 
avail  to  me  is  the  secret  of  the  pyramid,  and  the  volume  of  know- 
ledge of  the  wise  Solomon  ?" 

"  This  it  is.  0  king !  By  the  study  of  that  book  I  am  in- 
structed in  all  magic  arts,  and  can  command  the  assistance  of 
genii  to  accomplish  my  plans.  The  mystery  of  the  Talisman  of 
Borsa  is  therefore  familiar  to  me,  and  such  a  talisman  can  I  make; 
nay,  one  of  greater  virtues." 

"  O  wise  son  of  Abu  Ayub,"  cried  Aben  Habuz,  "  better  were 
such  a  talisman,  than  all  the  watchtowers  on  the  hills,  and  sen- 
tinels upon  the  borders.  Give  me  such  a  safeguard,  and  the 
riches  of  my  treasury  are  at  thy  command." 

The  astrologer  immediately  set  to  work  to  gratify  the  wishes 
of  the  monarch.  He  caused  a  great  tower  to  be  erected  upon  the 
top  of  the  royal  palace,  which  stood  on  the  brow  of  the  hill  of  the 
AJbaycin.  The  tower  was  built  of  stones  brought  from  Egypt, 
and  taken,  it  is  said,  from  one  of  the  pyramids.  In  the  upper 
part  of  the  tower  was  a  circular  hall,  with  windows  looking  to- 
wards every  point  of  the  compass,  and  before  each  window  was  a 
table,  on  which  was  arranged,  as  on  a  chess-board,  a  mimic  army 
of  horse  and  foot,  with  the  effigy  'of  the  potentate  that  ruled  in 
that  direction,  all  carved  of  wood:  To  each  of  these  tables  there 
was  a  small  lance,  no  bigger  than  a  bodkin,  on  which  were  en- 
graved certain  Chaldaic  characters.  This  hall  was  kept  constantly 
closed,  by  a  gate  of  brass,  with  a  great  lock  of  steel,  the  key  of 
\\hioh  was  in  possession  of  the  king. 


THE   WARLIKE   TALISMAN. 

On  the  top  of  the  tower  was  a  bronze  figure  of  a  Moorish 
horseman,  fixed  on  a  pivot,  with  a  shield  on  one  arm,  and  his 
lance  elevated  perpendicularly.  The  face  of  this  horseman  was 
towards  the  city,  as  if  keeping  guard  over  it;  but  if  any  foe  were 
at  hand,  the  figure  would  turn  in  that  direction,  and  would*  level 
the  lance  as  if  for  action. 

When  this  talisman  was  finished,  Aben  Habuz  was  all  impa- 
tient to  try  its  virtues ;  and  longed  as  ardently  for  an  invasion  as 
he  had  ever  sighed  after  repose.  His  desire  was  soon  gratified. 
Tidings  were  brought,  early  one  morning,  by  the  sentinel  appointed 
to  watch  the  tower,  that  the  face  of  the  bronze  horseman  was 
turned  towards  the  mountains  of  Elvira,  and  that  his  lance  pointed 
directly  against  the  Pass  of  Lope. 

"  Let  the  drums  and  trumpets  sound  to  arms,  and  all  Gran- 
ada be  put  on  the  alert,"  said  Aben  Habuz. 

"  O  king,"  said  the  astrologer,  "  let  not  your  city  be  dis- 
quieted, nor  your  warriors  called  to  arms ;  we  need  no  aid  of 
force  to  deliver  you  from  your  enemies.  Dismiss  your  attendants, 
and  let  us  proceed  alone  to  the  secret  hall  of  the  tower." 

The  ancient  Aben  Habuz  mounted  the  staircase  of  the  tower, 
leaning  on  the  arm  of  the  still  more  ancient  Ibrahim  Ebn  Abu 
Ayub.  They  unlocked  the  brazen  door  and  entered.  The  win- 
dow that  looked  towards  the  Pass  of  Lope  was  open.  "  In  this 
direction,"  said  the  astrologer,  "lies  the  danger;  approach,  O 
king,  and  behold  the  mystery  of  the  table." 

King  Aben  Habuz  approached  the  seeming  chess-board,  on 
which  were  arranged  the  small  wooden  effigies,  when,  to  his  sur- 
prise, he  perceived  that  they  were  all  in  motion.  The  horses 
ptanced  and  curveted,  the  warriors  brandished  their  weapons,  and 
there  was  a  faint  sound  of  drums  and  trumpets,  and  the  clang  of 


WAR   IN   EFFIGY. 


175 


arms,  and  neighing  of  steeds ;  but  all  no  louder,  nor  more  dis- 
tinct, than  the  hum  of  the  bee,  or  the  summer-fly,  in  the  drowsy 
ear  of  him  who  lies  at  noontide  in  the  shade. 

"Behold,  0  king,"  said  the  astrologer,  "a  proof  that  thy 
enemies  are  even  now  in  the  field.  They  must  be  advancing 
through  yonder  mountains,  by  the  Pass  of  Lope.  Would  you  pro- 
duce a  panic  and  confusion  amongst  them,  and  cause  them  to  re- 
treat without  loss  of  life,  strike  these  effigies  with  the  but-end  of 
this  magic  lance  ;  would  5'ou  cause  bloody  feud  and  carnage,  strike 
with  the  point." 

A  livid  streak  passed  across  the  countenance  of  Aben  Habuz ; 
he  seized  the  lance  with  trembling  eagerness ;  his  gray  beard 
wagged  with  exultation  as  he  tottered  toward  the  table :  "  Son  of 
Abu  Ayubj"  exclaimed  he,  in  chuckling  tone,  "  I  think  we  will 
have  a  little  blood !" 

So  saying,  he  thrust  the  magic  lance  into  some  of  the  pigmy 
effigies,  and  belabored  others  with  the  but-end,  upon  which  the 
former  fell  as  dead  upon  the  board,  and  the  rest  turning  upon 
each  other  began,  pell-mell,  a  chance-medley  fight.  • 

It  was  with  difficulty  the  astrologer  could  stay  the  hand  of  the 
most  pacific  of  monarchs,  and  prevent  him  from  absolutely  ex- 
terminating his  foes ;  at  length  he  prevailed  upon  him  to  leave 
the  tower,  and  to  send  out  scouts  to  the  mountains  by  the  Pass 
of  Lope. 

They  returned  with  the  intelligence,  that  a  Christian  army 
had  advanced  through  the  heart  of  the  Sierra,  almost  within  sight 
of  Granada,  where  a  dissension  had  broken  out  among  them ; 
they  had  turned  their  weapons  against  each  other,  and  after  much 
slaughter  had  retreated  over  the  border. 

Aben  Habuz  was  transported  with  joy  on  thus  proving  the 


176  THE  HEKMITAGE. 

efficacy  of  the  talisman.  "  At  length,"  said  he,  "  I  shall  lead  a 
life  of  tranquillity,  and  have  all  my  enemies  in  my  power.  0  wise 
eon  of  Abu  Ayub,  what  can  I  bestow  on  thee  in  reward  for  such 
a  blessing?" 

u  The  wants  of  an  old  man  and  a  philosopher,  0  king,  are  few 
ml  simple ;  grant  me  but  the  means  of  fitting  up  my  cave  as  a 
suitable  hermitage,  and  I  am  content." 

"  How  noble  is  the  moderation  of  the  truly  wise !"  exclaimed 
Aben  Habuz,  secretly  pleased  at  the  cheapness  of  the  recompense. 
He  summoned  his  treasurer,  and  bade  him  dispense  whatever 
sums  might  be  required  by  Ibrahim  to  complete  and  furnish  his 
hermitage. 

The  astrologer  now  gave  orders  to  have  various  chambers 
hewn  out  of  the  solid  rock,  so  as  to  form  ranges  of  apartments 
connected  with  his  astrological  hall ;  these  he  caused  to  be  fur- 
nished with  luxurious  ottomans  and  divans,  and  the  walls  to  be 
hung  with  the  richest  silks  of  Damascus.  "  I  am  an  old  man," 
said  he,  "  and  can  no  longer  rest  my  bones  on  stone  couches,  and 
these  damp  walls  require  covering." 

He  had  baths  too  constructed,  and  provided  with  all  kinds  of 
perfumes  and  aromatic  oils :  "  For  a  bath,"  said  he,  "  is  necessary 
to  counteract  the  rigidity  of  age,  and  to  restore  freshness  and 
suppleness  to  the  frame  withered  by  study." 

He  caused  the  apartments  to  be  hung  with  innumerable  silver 
and  crystal  lamps,  which  he  filled  with  a  fragrant  oil,  prepared 
according  to  a  receipt  discovered  by  him  in  the  tomb's  of  Egypt. 
This  oil  was  perpetual  in  its  nature,  and  diffused  a  soft  radiance 
like  the  tempered  light  of  day.  "  The  light  of  the  sun,"  said  he, 
K  is  too  gairish  and  violent  for  the  eyes  of  an  old  man,  and  the 
light  of  the  lamp  is  more  congenial  to  the  studies  of  a  philosopher." 


THE   SOLACE   OF  A   PIIILOSOrHEK.  177 

The  treasurer  of  king  Aben  Habuz  groaned  at  the  sums  daily 
demanded  to  fit  up  this  hermitage,  and  he  carried  his  complaints  to 
the  king.  The  royal  word,  however,  had  been  given ;  Aben  Habuz 
shrugged  his  shoulders  :  "  We  must  have  patience,"  said  he,  "  this 
old  man  has  taken  his  idea  of  a  philosophic  retreat  from  the  in« 
tcrior  of  the  pyramids,  and  of  the  vast  ruins  of  Egypt ;  but  all 
hings  have  an  end,  and  so  will  the  furnishing  of  his  cavern." 

The  king  was  in  the  right ;  the  hermitage  was  at  length  com- 
plete, and  formed  a  sumptuous  subterranean  palace.  The  astro- 
loger expressed  himself  perfectly  content,  and,  shutting  himself 
up,  remained  for  three  whole  days  buried  in  study.  At  the  end 
of  that  time  ho  appeared  again  before  the  treasurer.  "  One 
thing  more  is  necessary,"  said  he,  "  one  trifling  solace  for  the 
intervals  of  mental  labor." 

"  0  wise  Ibrahim,  I  am  bound  to  furnish  every  thing  neces- 
sary for  thy  solitude ;  what  more  dost  thou  require  ?" 

"  I  would  fain  have  a  few  dancing  women." 

"  Dancing  women  !"  echoed  the  treasurer,  with  surprise. 

"  Dancing  women,"  replied  the  sage,  gravely ;  "  and  let  them 
be  young  and  fair  to  look  upon ;  for  the  sight  of  youth  and 
beauty  is  refreshing.  A  few  will  suffice,  for  I  am  a  philosopher  of 
simple  habits  and  easily  satisfied." 

While  the  philosophic  Ibrahim  Ebn  Abu  Ayub  passed  his 
time  thus  sagely  in  his  hermitage,  the  pacific  Aben  Habuz  carried 
on  furious  campaigns  in  effigy  in  his  tower.  It  was  a  glorious 
thing  for  an  old  man.  like  himself,  of  quiet  habits,  to  have  war 
made  easy,  and  to  be  enabled  to  amuse  himself  in  his  chamber 
by  brushing  away  whole  armies  like  so  many  swarms  of  flies. 

For  a  time  he  rioted  in  the  indulgence  of  his  humors,  and  CVCD 

taunted  and  insulted  his  neighbors,  to  induce  them  to  make  in- 

8* 


178  THE   CAPTIVE   BEAUTY. 

cursions  5  but  by  degrees  they  grew  wary  from  repeated  disasters 
until  no  one  ventured  to  invade  his  territories.  For  many  months 
the  bronze  horseman  remained  on  the  peace  establishment  with 
his  lance  elevated  in  the  air,  and  the  worthy  old  monarch  began 
to  repine  at  the  want  of  his  accustomed  sport,  and  to  grow 
peevish  at  his  monotonous  tranquillity. 

At  length,  one  day,  the  talismanic  horseman  veered  suddenly 
round,  and  lowering  his  lance,  made  a  dead  point  towards  the 
mountains  of  Guadix.  Aben  Habuz  hastened  to  his  tower,  but 
the  magic  table  in  that  direction  remained  quiet ;  not  a  single 
warrior  was  in  motion.  Perplexed  at  the  circumstance,  he  sent 
forth  a  troop  of  horse  to  scour  the  mountains  and  reconnoitre. 
They  returned  after  three  days'  absence. 

"  We  have  searched  every  mountain  pass,"  said  they,  "  but 
not  a  helm  nor  spear  was  stirring.  All  that  we  have  found  in  the 
course  of  our  foray,  was  a  Christian  damsel  of  surpassing  beauty, 
sleeping  at  noontide  beside  a  fountain,  whom  we  have  brought 
away  captive." 

"  A  damsel  of  surpassing  beauty !"  exclaimed  Aben  Habuz, 
his  eyes  gleaming  with  animation ;  "  let  her  be  conducted  into 
.my  presence." 

The  beautiful  damsel  was  accordingly  conducted  into  his  pre- 
sence. She  was  arrayed  with  all  the  luxury  of  ornament  that 
had  prevailed  among  the  Gothic  Spaniards  at  the  time  of  the 
Arabian  conquest.  Pearls  of  dazzling  whiteness  were  entwined 
with  her  raven  tresses;  and  jewels  sparkled  on  her  forehead, 
rivalling  the  lustre  of  her  eyes.  Around  her  neck  was  a  golden 
chain,  to  which  was  suspended  a  silver  lyre,  which  hung  by  her  side. 

The  flashes  of  her  dark  refulgent  eye  were  like  sparks  of  firo 
oil  the  withered,  yet  combustible,  heart  of  Aben  Habuz ;  the  swim- 


THE  CAPTIVE   BEAUTY.  179 

ining  voluptuousness  of  her  gait  made  his  senses  reel.  "  Fairest 
of  women,"  cried  he,  with  rapture,  "who  and  what  art  thou?" 

"  The  daughter  of  one  of  the  Gothic  princes,  who  but  lately 
ruled  over  this  land.  The  armies  of  my  father  have  been  des- 
troyed, as  if  by  magic,  among  these  mountains;  he  has  been  driven 
into  exile,  and  his  daughter  is  a  captive." 

"  Beware,  O  king !"  whispered  Ibrahim  Ebn  Abu  Ayub,  "  this 
may  be  one  of  these  northern  sorceresses  of  whom  we  have  heard, 
who  assume  the  most  seductive  forms  to  beguile  the  unwary. 
Methinks  I  read  witchcraft  in  her  eye,  and  sorcery  in  every 
movement.  Doubtless  this  is  the  enemy  pointed  out  by  the  talis- 
man." 

"  Son  of  Abu  Ayub,"  replied  the  king,  "  thou  art  a  wise  man, 
I  grant,  a  conjuror  for  aught  I  know ;  but  thou  art  little  versed 
in  the  ways  of  woman.  In  that  knowledge  will  I  yield  to  no 
man ;  no,  not  to  the  wise  Solomon  himself,  notwithstanding  the 
number  of  his  wives  and  concubines.  As  to  this  damsel,  I  see 
no  harm  in  her ;  she  is  fair  to  look  upon,  and  finds  favor  in  my 
eyes." 

"  Hearken,  0  king !"  replied  the  astrologer.  "  I  have  given 
thee  many  victories  by  means  of  my  talisman,  but  have  never 
shared  any  of  the  spoil.  Give  me  then  this  stray  captive,  ta 
solace  me  in  my  solitude  with  her  silver  lyre.  If  she  be  indeed 
a  sorceress,  I  have  counter  spells  that  set  her  charms  at  defiance." 

"  What !  more  women !"  cried  Aben  Habuz.  "  Hast  thou  not 
already  dancing  women  enough  to  solace  thee  ?" 

"  Dancing  womem  have  I,  it  is  true,  but  no  singing  women, 
I  would  fain  have  a,  little  minstrelsy  to  refresh  my  mind  when 
Weary  with  the  toils  of  study." 

"A  truce  with  thy  hermit  cravings,"  said  the  king,  impa- 


180  THE  CAPTIVE  BEAUTY. 

tiently.  "  This  damsel  have  I  marked  for  my  pwn.  I  see  much 
comfort  in  her ;  even  such  comfort  as  David,  the  father  of  Solo- 
mon the  wise,  found  in  the  society  of  Abishag  the  Shunamite." 

Further  solicitations  and  remonstrances  of  the  astrologer  only 
provoked  a  more  peremptory  reply  from  the  monarch,  and  they 
parted  in  high  displeasure.  The  sage  shut  himself  up  in  his  her- 
mitage to  brood  over  his  disappointment ;  ere  he  departed,  how- 
ever, he  gave  the  king  one  more  warning  to  beware  of  his  danger- 
ous captive.  But  where  is  the  old  man  in  love  that  will  listen  to 
council  ?  Aben  Habuz  resigned  himself  to  the  full  sway  of  his 
passion.  His  only  study  was  how  to  render  himself  amiable  in 
the  eyes  of  the  Gothic  beauty.  He  had  not  youth  to  recommend 
him,  it  is  true,  but  then  he  had  riches  ;  and  when  a  lover  is  old, 
he  is  generally  generous.  The  Zacatin  of  Granada  was  ransacked 
for  the  most  precious  merchandise  of  the  East;  silks,  jewels,  pre- 
cious gems,  exquisite  perfumes,  all  that  Asia  and  Africa  yielded 
of  rich  and  rare,  were  lavished  upon  the  princess.  All  kinds  of 
spectacles  and  festivities  were  devised  for  her  entertainment; 
minstrelsy,  dancing,  tournaments,  bull-fights: — Granada  for  a 
time  was  a  scene  of  perpetual  pageant.  The  Gothic  princess  re- 
garded  all  this  splendor  with  the  air  of  one  accustomed  to  mag 
nificence.  She  received  every  thing  as  a  homage  due  to  her  rank, 
or  rather  to  her  beauty ;  for  beauty  is  more  lofty  in  its  exactions 
even  than  rank.  Nay,  she  seemed  to  take  a  secret  pleasure  in 
exciting  the  monarch  to  expenses  that  made  his  treasury  shrink ; 
and  then  treating  his  extravagant  generosity  as  a  mere  matter  of 
course.  With  all  his  assiduity  and  munificence,  also,  the  vehcra 
"hie  lover  could  not  flatter  himself  that  he  had  made  any  impres- 
sion on  her  heart.  She  never  frowned  on  him,  it  is  true,  but 
then  she  never  smiled.  Whenever  he  began  to  plead  his  passion, 


THE   SILVER   LYKE.  181 

she  struck  her  silver  lyre.  There  was  a  mystic  charm  in  the 
sound.  In  an  instant  the  monarch  began  to  nod  ;  a  drowsiness 
stole  over  him,  and  he  gradually  sank  into  a  sleep,  from  which  he 
awoke  wonderfully  refreshed,  but  perfectly  cooled  for  the  time  of 
his  passion.  This  was  very  baffling  to  his  suit ;  but  then  these 
slumbers  were  accompanied  by  agreeable  dreams,  which  com- 
pletely inthralled  the  senses  of  the  drowsy  lover;  so  he  continued 
to  dream  on,  while  all  Granada  scoffed  at  bis  infatuation,  and 
groaned  at  the  treasures  lavished  for  a  song. 

At  length  a  danger  burst  on  the  head  of  Aben  Habuz,  against 
which  his  talisman  yielded  him  no  warning.  An  insurrection 
broke  out  in  his  very  capital;  his  palace  was  surrounded  by  an 
armed  rabble,  who  menaced  his  life  and  the  life  of  his  Christian 
paramour.  A  spark  of  his  ancient  warlike  spirit  was  awakened 
in  the  breast  of  the  monarch.  At  the  head  of  a  handful  of  his 
guards  he  sallied  forth,  put  the  rebels  to  flight,  and  crushed  the 
insurrection  in  the  bud. 

When  quiet  was  again  restored,  he  sought  the  astrologer,  who 
still  remained  shut  up  in  his  hermitage,  chewing  the  bitter  cud 
of  resentment. 

Aben  Habuz  approached  him  with  a  conciliatory  tone.  "O 
wise  son  of  Abu  Ayub,"  said  he,  "well  didst  thou  predict  dan- 
gers to  me  from  this  captive  beauty:  tell  me  then,  thou  who  art 
so  quick  at  foreseeing  peril,  what  I  should  do  to  avert  it." 

"  Put  from  thee  the  infidel  damsel  who  is  the  cause." 

"  Sooner  would  I  part  with  my  kingdom,"  cried  Aben  Habuz. 

"  Thou  art  in  danger  of  losing  both,"  replied  the  astrologer. 
*  "Be  not  harsh  and  angry,  0  most  profound  of  philosophers; 
consider  the  double  distress  of  a  monarch  and  a  lover,  and  devise 
some  means  of  protecting  me  from  the  evils  by  ?  bich  I  am  men- 
S* 


182  THE   GJJtDEN   OF  IREM. 

aced.  I  care  not  for  grandeur,  I  care  not  for  power,  I  languish 
only  for  repose ;  would  that  I  had  some  quiet  retreat  where  I 
might  take  refuge  from  the  world,  and  all  its  cares,  and  pomps, 
and  troubles,  and  devote  the  remainder  of  my  days  to  tranquillity 
and  love." 

The  astrologer  regarded  him  for  a  moment,  from  Binder  his 
bushy  eyebrows. 

"  And  what  wouldst  thou  give,  if  I  could  provide  thee  such 
a  retreat?" 

"  Thou  shouldst  name  thy  own  reward,  and  whatever  it  might 
be,  if  within  the  scope  of  my  power,  as  my  soul  liveth,  it  should 
be  thine." 

"  Thou  hast  heard,  0  king,  of  the  garden  of  Irem,  one  of  the 
prodigies  of  Arabia  the  happy." 

"  I  have  heard  of  that  garden  ;  it  is  recorded  in  the  Koran, 
even  in  the  chapter  entitled  '  The  Dawn  of  Day.'  I  have  more- 
over, heard  marvellous  things  related  of  it  by  pilgrims  who 
had  been  to  Mecca  ;  but  I  considered  them  wild  fables,  such  as 
travellers  are  wont  to  tell  who  have  visited  remote  countries." 

"  Discredit  not,  0  .king,  the  tales  of  travellers,"  rejoined  the 
astrologer,  gravely,  "for  they  contain  precious  rarities  of  know- 
ledge brought  from  the  ends  of  the  earth.  As  to  the  palace  and 
garden  of  Irem,  what  is  generally  told  of  them  is  true  ;  I  have 
seen  them  with  mine  own  eyes — listen  to  my  adventure  ;  for  it 
has  a  bearing  upon  the  object  of  your  request. 

"  In  my  younger  days,  when  a  mere  Arab  of  the  desert,  I 
tended  my  father's  camels.  In  traversing  the  desert  of  Aden, 
one  of  them  strayed  from  the  rest,  and  was  lost.  I  searched 
after  it  for  several  days,  but  in  vain,  until,  wearied  and  faint,  I 
laid  myself  down  at  noontide,  and  slept  under  a  palm-tree  by  the 


THE   GABDEN   OF   IEEM.  183 

jide  of  a  scanty  well.  When  I  awoke,  I  found  myself  at  the  gate 
of  a  city.  I  entered,  and  beheld  noble  streets,  and  squares,  and 
market-places ;  but  all  were  silent  and  without  an  inhabitant. 
£  wandered  on  until  I  came  to  a  sumptuous  palace  with  a  garden 
idorned  with  fountains  and  fishponds,  and  groves  and  flowers, 
»nd  orchards  laden  with  delicious  fruit ;  but  still  no  one  was  to 
be  seen.  Upon  which,  appalled  at  this  loneliness,  I  hastened  to 
depart  •  and,  after  issuing  forth  at  the  gate  of  the  city,  I  turned 
to  look  upon  the  place,  but  it  was  no  longer  to  be  seen  ;  nothing 
but  the  silent  desert  extended  before  my  eyes. 

"  In  the  neighborhood  I  met  with  an  aged  dervise,  learned  in 
the  traditions  and  secrets  of  the  land,  and  related  to  him  what 
had  befallen  me.  '  This,7  said  he,  '  is  the  far-famed  garden  of 
Irem,  one  of  the  wonders  of  the  desert.  It  only  appears  at  times 
to  some  wanderer  like  thyself,  gladdening  him  with  the  sight  of 
towers  and  palaces  and  garden  walls  overhung  with  richly-laden 
fruit-trees,  and  then  vanishes,  leaving  nothing  but  a  lonely  desert. 
And  this  is  the  story  of  it.  In  old  times,  wnen  this  country  was 
inhabited  by  the  Addites,  King  Sheddad,  the  son  of  Ad,  the 
great  grandson  of  Noah,  founded  here  a  splendid  city.  When  it 
was  finished,  and  he  saw  its  grandeur,  his  heart  was  puffed  up 
with  pride  and  arrogance,  and  he  determined  to  build  a  royal 
palace,  with  gardens  which  should  rival  all  related  in  the  Koran 
of  the  celestial  paradise.  But  the  curse  of  heaven  fell  upon  him 
for  his  presumption.  He  and  his  subjects  were  swept  from  the 
earth,  and  his  splendid  city,  and  palace,  and  gardens,  were  laid 
under  a  perpetual  spell,  which  hides  them  from  human  sight,  ex- 
cepting that  they  are  seen  at  intervals,  by  way  of  keeping  his 
gin  in  perpetual  remembrance. 

"  This  story,  0  king,  and  the  wonders  I  had  seen,  ever  dwelt 


184:  THE   COMPACT. 

in  my  mind  ;  and  in  after  years,  when  I  had  been  in  Egypt,  and 
•was  possessed  of  the  book  of  knowledge  of  Solomon  the  wise,  1 
determined  to  return  and  revisit  the  garden  of  Irem.  I  did  so, 
and  found  it  revealed  to  my  instructed  sight.  I  took  possession 
of  the  palace  of  Sheddad,  and  passed  several  days  in  his  mock 
paradise.  The  genii  who  watch  over  the  place,  were  obedient  to 
my  magic  power,  and  revealed  to  me  the  spells  by  which  the 
whole  garden  had  been,  as  it  were,  conjured  into  existence,  and 
by  which  it  was  rendered  invisible.  Such  a  palace  and  garden, 
0  king,  can  I  make  for  thee,  even  here,  on  the  mountain  above 
thy  city.  Do  I  not  know  all  the  secret  spells  ?  and  am  I  not  in 
possession  of  the  book  of  knowledge  of  Solomon  the  wise  ?" 

"  0  wise  son  of  Abu  Ayub !"  exclaimed  Aben  Habuz,  trem- 
bling with  eagerness,  "  thou  art  a  traveller  indeed,  and  hast  seen 
and  learned  marvellous  things  !  Contrive  me  such  a  paradise, 
and  ask  any  reward,  even  to  the  half  of  my  kingdom." 

"  Alas  !"  replied  the  other,  "  thou  knowest  I  am  an  old  man, 
and  a  philosopher,  and  easily  satisfied ;  all  the  reward  I  ask  is 
the  first  beast  of  burden,  with  its  load,  which  shall  enter  the 
magic  portal  of  the  palace." 

The  monarch  gladly  agreed  to  so  moderate  a  stipulation,  and 
the  astrologer  began  his  work.  On  the  summit  of  the  hill,  im- 
mediately above  his  subterranean  hermitage,  he  caused  a  great 
gateway  or  barbican  to  be  erected,  opening  through  the  centre  of 
a  strong  tower. 

There  was  an  outer  vestibule  or  porch,  with  a  lofty  arch,  and 
within  it  a  portal  secured  by  massive  gates.  On  the  key-stone 
of  the  portal  the  astrologer,  with  his  own  hand,  wrought  the 
figure  of  a  huge  key ;  and  on  the  key-stone  of  the  outer  arch  of 
the  vestibule,  which  was  loftier  than  that  of  the  portal,  he  carved 


THE   OIIABMED   PALACE.  185 

a  gigantic  hand.  These  -were  potent  talismans,  over  which  lie 
repeated  many  sentences  in  an  unknown  tongue. 

When  this  gateway  was  finished  he  shut  himself  up  for  two 
days  in  his  astrological  hall,  engaged  in  secret  incantations  ;  ou 
the  third  he  ascended  the  hill,  and  passed  the  whole  day  on  it8 
summit.  At  a  late  hour  of  "the  night  he  came  down,  and  pre- 
sented himself  before  Aben  Habuz.  "  At  length,  0  king,"  said 
he,  "  my  labor  is  accomplished.  On  the  summit  of  the  hill 
stands  one  of  the  most  delectable  palaces  that  ever  the  head  of 
man  devised,  or  the  heart  of  man  desired.  It  contains  sumptu- 
ous halls  and  galleries,  delicious  gardens,  cool  fountains,  and  fra- 
grant baths ;  in  a  word,  the  whole  mountain  is  converted  into  a 
paradise.  Like  the  garden  of  Irem,  it  is  protected  by  a  mighty 
charm,  which  hides  it  from  the  view  and  search  of  meitals,  ex- 
cepting such  as  possess  the  secret  of  it»  talismans." 

"  Enough  !"  cried  Aben  Habuz,  joyfully,  "  to-morrow  morning 
with  the  first  light  we  will  ascend  and  take  possession."  The 
happy  monarch  slept  but  little  that  night.  Scarcely  had  the  rays 
of  the  sun  begun  to  play  about  the  snowy  summit  of  the  Sierra 
Nevada,  when  he  mounted  his  steed,  and,  accompanied  only  by  a 
few  chosen  attendants,  ascended  a  steep  and.  narrow  road  lead- 
ing up  the  hill.  Beside  him,  on  a  white  palfrey,  rode  the  Gothic 
princess,  her  whole  dress  sparkling  with  jewels,  while  round  hei 
neck  was, suspended  her  silver  lyre.  The  astrologer  walked  OD 
the  other  side  of  the  king,  assisting  his  steps  with  his  hierogly- 
phic staff,  for  he  never  mounted  steed  of  any  kind. 

Aben  Habuz  looked  to  see  the  towers  of  the  palace  brighten- 
ing above  him,  and  the  imbowered  terraces  of  its  gardens  stretch- 
ing along  the  heights  ;  but  as  yet  nothing  of  the  kind  was  to  bo 
descried.  "  That  is  the  mystery  and  safeguard  of  the  place," 


186  THE  TALISMANS. 

said  the  astrologer,  "  nothing  can  be  discerned  until  you  have 
passed  the  spell-bound  gateway,  and  been  put  in  possession  of 
the  place." 

As  they  approached  the  gateway,  the  astrologer  paused,  and 
pointed  out  to  the  king  the  mystic  hand  and  key  carved  upon 
the  portal  of  the  arch.  "  These,"  said  he,  "  are  the  talismans 
which  guard  the  entrance  to  this  paradise.  Until  yonder  hand 
shall  reach  down  and  seize  that  key,  neither  mortal  power  nor 
magic  artifice  can  prevail  against  the  lord  of  this  mountain." 

While  Aben  Habuz  was  gazing,  with  open  mouth  and  silent 
wonder,  at  these  mystic  talismans,  the  palfrey  of  the  princess 
proceeded,  and  bore  her  in  at  the  portal,  to  the  very  centre  of  the 
barbican. 

"  Behold,"  cried  the  astrologer,  "  my  promised  reward ;  the 
first  animal  with  its  burden  which  should  enter  the  magic  gate- 
way." 

Aben  Habuz  smiled  at  what  he  considered  a  pleasantry  of 
the  ancient  man ;  but  when  he  found  him  to  be  in  earnest,  his 
grey  beard  trembled  with  indignation. 

"  Son  of  Abu  Ayub,"  said  he,  sternly,  "  what  equivocation  is 
this  ?  Thou  knowest  the  meaning  of  my  promise  :  the  first  beast 
of. burden,  with  its^load,  that  should  enter  this  portal.  Take  the 
strongest  mule  in  my  stables,  load  it  with  the  most  precious 
things  of  my  treasury,  and  it  is  thine ;  but  dare  not  raise  thy 
thoughts  to  her  who  is  the  delight  of  my  heart." 

"  What  need  I  of  wealth,"  cried  the  astrologer,  scornfully ; 
tt  have  I  not  the  book  of  knowledge  of  Solomon  the  wise,  and 
through  it  the  command  of  the  secret  treasures  of  the  earth  ? 
.The  princess  is  mine  by  right ;  thy  royal  word  is  pledged :  I 
claim  her  as  my  own." 


THE   SPELL-BOUND   GATEWAY. 


187 


The  princess  looked  down  haughtily  from  her  palfrey,  and  a 
light  smile  of  scorn  curled  her  rosy  lip  at  this  dispute  between 
two  gray-beards,  for  the  possession  of  youth  and  beauty.  The 
wrath  of  the  monarch  got  the  better  of  his  discretion.  "  Base 
eon  of  the  desert,"  cried  he,  "  thou  may'st  be  master  of  many 
arts,  but  know  me  for  thy  master,  and  presume  not  to  juggle 
with  thy  king." 

"  My  master  !  my  king  !"  echoed  the  astrologer — "  The  mon- 
arch of  a  mole-hill  to  claim  sway  over  him  who  possesses  the 
talismans  of  Solomon  !  Farewell,  Aben  Habuz ;  reign  over  thy 
petty  kingdom,  and  revel  in  thy  paradise  of  fools ;  for  me,  I  will 
laugh  at  thee  in  my  philosophic  retirement." 

So  saying  he  seized  the  bridle  of  the  palfrey,  smote  the  earth 
with  his  staff,  and  sank  with  the  Gothic  princess  through  the 
centre  of  the  barbican.  The  earth  closed  over  them,  and  no  trace 
remained  of  the  opening  by  which  they  had  descended. 

Aben  Habuz  was  struck  dumb  for  a  time  with  astonishment. 
Recovering  himself,  he  ordered  a  thousand  workmen  to  dig,  with 
pickaxe  and  spade,  into  the  ground  where  the  astrologer  had  dis- 
appeared. They  digged  and  digged,  but  in  vain ;  the  flinty  bosom 
of  the  hill  resisted  their  implements  ;  or  if  they  did  penetrate  a 
little  way,  the  earth  filled  in  again  as  fast  as  they  threw  it  out 
Aben  Habuz  sought  the  mouth  of  the  cavern  at  the  foot  of  the 
hill,  leading  to  the  subterranean  palace  of  the  astrologer ;  but  it 
was  nowhere  to  be  found.  Where  once  had  been  an  entrance, 
was  now  a  solid  surface  of  primeval  rock.  With  the  disappear- 
ance of  Ibrahim  Ebn  Abu  Ayub  ceased  the  benefit  of  his  talis- 
mans. The  bronze  horseman  remained  fixed,  with  his  face  turned 
toward  the  hill,  and  his  spear  pointed  to  the  spot  where  the 
astrologer  had  descended,  as  if  there  still  lurked  the  deadliest 
foe  of  Aben  Habuz. 


188  THE   SUBTERRANEAN   HALL. 

From  time  to  time  the  sound  of  music,  and  the  tones  of  a 
female  voice,  could  be  faintly  heard  from  the  bosom  of  the  hill; 
and  a  peasant  one  day  brought  word  to  the  king,  that  in  the  pre- 
ceding night  he  had  found  a  fissure  in  the  rock,  by  which  he  had 
crept  in,  until  he  looked  down  into  a  subterranean  hall,  in 
which  sat  the  astrologer,  on  a  magnificent  divan,  slumbering  and 
nodding  to  the  silver  lyre  of  the  princess,  which  seemed  to  hold 
a  magic  sway  over  his  senses. 

Aben  Habuz  sought  the  fissure  in  the  rock,  but  it  was  again 
closed.  He  renewed  the  attempt  to  unearth  his  rival,  but  all  in 
vain.  The  spell  of  the  hand  and  key  was  too  potent  to  be  coun- 
teracted by  human  power.  As  to  the  summit  of  the  mountain, 
the  site  of  the  promised  palace  and  garden,  it  remained  a  naked 
waste ;  either  the  boasted  elysium  was  hidden  from  sight  by  en- 
chantnient,  or  was  a  mere  fable  of  the  astrologer.  The  world 
charitably  supposed  the  latter,  and  some  used  to  call  the  place 
"  The  King's  Folly ;"  while  others  named  it  "  The  Fool's  Para- 
dise." 

To  add  to  the  chagrin  of  Aben  Habuz,  the  neighbors  whom 
he  had  defied  and  taunted,  and  cut  up  at  his  leisure  while  master 
of  the  talismanic  horseman,  finding  him  no  longer  protected  by 
magic  spell,  made  inroads  into  his  territories  from  all  sides,  and 
the  remainder  of  the  life  of  the  most  pacific  of  monarchs  was 
a  tissue  of  turmoils. 

At  length  Aben  Habuz  died,  and  was  buried.  Ages  have 
lince  rolled  away.  The  Alhambra  has  been  built  on  the  event- 
ful mountain,  and  in  some  measure  realizes  the  fabled  delights  of 
the  garden  of  Irem.  The  spell-bound  gateway  still  exists  en- 
tire, protected  no  doubt  by  the  mystic  hand  and  key,  and  now 
forms  the  Gate  of  Justice,  the  grand  entrance  to  the  fortress, 


MAGIC  SLUMBEKS. 


189 


Under  that  gateway,  it  is  said,  the  old  astrologer  remains  in  his 
subterranean  hall,  nodding  on  his  divan,  lulled  by  the  silver  lyre 
of  the  princess. 

The  old  invalid  sentinels  who  mount  guard  at  the  gate  heai 
the  strains  occasionally  in  the  summer  nights ;  and,  yielding  to 
their  soporific  power,  doae  quietly  at  their  posts.  Nay,  so  drowsy 
an  influence  pervades  the  place,  that  even  those  who  watch  by 
day  may  generally  be  seen  nodding  on  the  stone  benches  of  the 
barbican,  or  sleeping  under  the  neighboring  trees ;  so  that  in 
fact  it  is  the  drowsiest  military  post  in  all  Christendom.  All 
this,  say  the  ancient  legends,  will  endure  from  age  to  age.  The 
princess  will  remain  captive  to  the  astrologer ;  and  the  astrologer, 
bound  up  in  magic  slumber  by  the  princess,  until  the  last  day, 
unless  the  mystic  hand  shall  grasp  the  fated  key,  and  dispel  the 
whole  charm  of  this  enchanted  mountain. 


'   NOTE  TO  THE  ARABIAN  ASTROLOGER. 

Al  Makkari,  in  his  history  of  the  Mahommedan  Dynasties  in  Spain,  cites 
from  another  Arabian  writer  an  account  of  a  talismanic  effigy  somewhat  sim- 
ilar to  the  one  in  the  foregoing  legend. 

In  Cadiz,  says  he,  there  formerly  stood  a  square  tower  upwards  of  one 
idred  cubits  high,  built  of  huge  blocks  of  stone,  fastened  together  with  clamps 
brass.    On-the  top  was  the  figure  of  a  man,  holding  a  staff  in  his  right  hand, 
iifl  face  turned  to  the  Atlantic,  and  pointing  with  the  forefinger  of  his  left  hand 
the  Straits  of  Gibraltar.     It  was  said  to  have  been  set  up  in  ancient  times 
the  Gothic  kings  of  Andalus,  as  a  beacon  or  guide  to  navigators.     The 
toslems  of  Barbary  and  Andalus,  considered  it  a  talisman  which  exercised  a 
ill  ovei  the  seas.     Under  its  guidance,  swarms  of  piratical  people  of  a  na- 
called  Majus,  appeared  on  the  coast  in  large  vessels  with  a  square  sail  in 
bow,  and  another  in  the  stern.    They  came  every  six  or  seven  years ;  cap- 


190  THE   IDOL   AT   CADIZ. 

lured  every  thing  they  met  with  on  the  sea ;  guided  by  the  statue,  they  passed 
through  the  Straits  into  the  Mediterranean,  landed  on  the  coasts  of  Andalus, 
laid  every  thing  waste  with  fire  and  sword ;  and  sometimes  carried  then*  depre 
dationa  on  die  opposite  coasts  even  as  far  as  Syria, 

At  length,  it  came  to  pass  in  the  time  of  the  civil  wars,  a  Moslem  Admiral 
who  had  taken  possession  of  Cadiz,  hearing  that  the  statue  on  top  of  the  tower 
was  of  pure  gold,  had  it  lowered  to  the  ground  ^nd  broken  to  pieces ;  when  it 
proved  to  be  of  gilded  brass.  With  the  destruction  of  the  idol,  the  spell  over 
the  sea  was  at  an  end.  From  that  time  forward,  nothing  more  was  seen  of  the 
piratical  people  of  the  ocean,  excepting  that  two  of  their  barks  were  wrecked 
on  the  coast,  one  at  Marsu-1-Majus  (the  port  of  the  Majus),  the  other  close  to 
the  promontory  of  Al-Aghan. 

The  maritime  invaders  above  mentioned  by  Al  Makkan  must  have  boeii 
the  Nortlunea 


VISITORS  TO  THE  ALHAMBRA. 

FOR  nearly  three  months  had  I  enjoyed  undisturbed  my  dream 
of  sovereignty  in  the  Alhambra  :  a  longer  term  of  quiet  than  had 
been  the  lot  of  many  of  my  predecessors.  During  this  lapse  of 
time  the  progress  of  the  season  had  wrought  the  usual  change. 
On  my  arrival  I  had  found  every  thing  in  the  freshness  of  May  ; 
the  foliage  of  the  trees  was  still  tender  and  transparent ;  the  pome- 
granate had  not  yet  shed  its  brilliant  crimson  blossoms ;  the 
orchards  of  the  Xenil  and  the  Darro  were  in  full  bloom ;  the  rocks 
were  hung  with  wild  flowers,  and  Granada  seemed  completely  sur- 
rounded by  a  wilderness  of  roses ;  among  which  innumeraole 
nightingales  sang,  not  merely  in  the  night,  but  all  day  long. 

Now  the  advance  of  summer  had  withered  the  rose  and 
silenced  the  nightingale,  and  the  distant  country  began  to  look 
parched  and  sunburnt ;  though  a  perennial  verdure  reigned  im- 
mediately round  the  city  and  in  the  deep  narrow  valleys  at  the 
foot  of  the  snow-capped  mountains. 

The  Alhambra  possesses  retreats  graduated  to  the  heat  of  the 
weather,  among  which  the  most  peculiar  is  the  almost  subter- 
ranean apartment  of  the  baths.  This  still  retains  its  ancient 
Oriental  character,  though  stamped  with  the  touching  traces  of 
decline.  At  the  entrance,  opening  into  a  small  court  formerly 
adorned  with  flowers,  is  a  hall,  moderate  in  size,  but  light  and 


192  THE   BATHS. 

graceful  in  architecture.  It  is  overlooked  by  a  small  gallery  sup 
ported  by  marble  pillars  and  moresco  arches.  An  alabaster  foun- 
tain in  the  centre  of  the  pavement  still  throws  up  a  jet  of  water 
to  cool  the  place.  On  each  side  are  deep  alcoves  with  raised 
platforms,  where  the  bathers,  after  their  ablutions,  reclined  on 
cushions,  soothed  to  voluptuous  repose  by  the  fragrance  of  the  per- 
fumed air  and  the  notes  of  soft  music  from  the  gallery.  Beyond 
this  hall  are  the  interior  chambers,  still  more  retired ;  the  sanctum 
sanctorum  of  female  privacy  :  for  here  the  beauties  of  the  Harem 
indulged  in  the  luxury  of  the  baths.  A  soft  mysterious  light 
reigns  through  the  place,  admitted  through  small  apertures  (lum- 
breras)  in  the  vaulted  ceiling.  The  traces  of  ancient  elegance 
are  still  to  be  seen  •  and  the  alabaster  baths  in  which  the  sulta- 
nas once  reclined.  The  prevailing  obscurity  and  silence  have 
made  these  vaults  a  favorite  resort  of  bats,  who  nestle  during  the 
day  in  the  dark  nooks  and  corners,  and  on  being  disturbed,  flit 
mysteriously  about  the  twilight  chambers,  heightening,  in  an  in- 
describable degree,  their  air  of  desertion  and  decay. 

In  this  cool  and  elegant,  though  dilapidated  retreat,  which 
had  the  freshness  and  seclusion  of  a  grotto,  I  passed  the  sultry 
hours  of  the  day  as  summer  advanced,  emerging  towards  sunset ; 
and  bathing,  or  rather  swimming,  at  night  in  the  great  reservoir 
of  the  main  court.  In  this  way  I  was  enabled  in  a  measure  to 
counteract  the  relaxing  and  enervating  influence  of  the  climate. 

My  dream  of  absolute  sovereignty,  however,  came  at  length  to 
an  end.  I  was  roused  one  morning  by  the  report  of  fire-arms, 
which  reverberated  among  the  towers  as  if  the  castle  had  been 
taken  by  surprise.  On  sallying  forth,  I  found  an  old  cavalier 
with  a  number  of  domestics,  in  possession  of  the  Hall  of  Ambas- 
sadors. He  was  an  ancient  count  who  had  come  up  from  his 


A   KIVAL   POTENTATE.  193 

palace  in  Granada  to  pass  a  short  time  in  the  Alharnbra  for  the 
benefit  of  purer  air ;  and  who,  being  a  veteran  and  inveterate 
sportsman,  was  endeavoring  to  get  an  appetite  for  his  breakfast 
by  shooting  at  swallows  from  the  balconies.  It  was  a  harmless 
amusement;  for  though,  by  the  alertness  of  his  attendants  in 
loading  his  pieces,  he  was  enabled  to  keep  up  a  brisk  fire,  I  could 
not  accuse  him  of  the  death  of  a  single  swallow.  Nay,  the  birds 
themselves  seemed  to  enjoy  the  sport,  and  to  deride  his  want  of 
skill,  skimming  in  circles  close  to  the  balconies,  and  twittering  as 
they  darted  by. 

The  arrival  of  this  old  gentleman  changed  essentially  the  as- 
pect of  affairs,  but  caused  no  jealousy  nor  collision.  We  tacitly 
shared  the  empire  between  us,  like  the  last  kings  of  G-ranada,  ex- 
cepting that  we  maintained  a  most  amicable  alliance.  He  reigned 
absolute  over  the  court  of  the  Lions  and  its  adjacent  halls,  while 
I  maintained  peaceful  possession  of  the  regions  of  the  baths  and 
the  little  garden  of  Lindaraxa.  We  took  our  meals  together 
•under  the  arcades  of  the  court,  where  the  fountains  cooled  the 
air,  and  bubbling  rills  ran  along  the  channels  of  the  marble  pave- 
ment. 

In  the  evenings  a  domestic  circle  would  gather  about  the  wor- 
thy old  cavalier.  The  countess,  his  wife  by  a  second  marriage, 
would  come  up  from  the  city  accompanied  by  her  step-daughter 
Carmen,  an  only  child,  a  charming  little  being,  still  in  her  girl- 
ish years.  Then  there  were  always  some  of  his  ofiicial  depend- 
ents, his  chaplain,  his  lawyer,  his  secretary,  his  steward,  and 
other  officers  and  agents  of  his  extensive  possessions,  ..who 
brought  him  up  the  news  or  gossip  of  the  city,  and  formed  his 
evening  party  of  tresillo  or  ombre.  Thus  he  held  a  kind 
of  domestic  court,  where  each  one  paid  him  deference,  and 
9 


194:  LA 

sought  to  contribute  to  his  amusement,  without,  howevcr;  any 
appearance  of  servility,  or  any  sacrifice  of  self-respect.  In 
fact,  nothing  of  the  kind  was  exacted  by  the  demeanor  of  the 
Count;  for  whatever  may  be  said  of  Spanish  pride,  it  rarely 
chills  or  constrains  the  intercourse  of  social  or  domestic  life. 
Among  no  people  are  the  relations  between  kindred  more  unre- 
served and  cordial,  or  between  superior  and  dependent  more  free 
from  haughtiness  on  the  one  side,  and  obsequiousness  on  the 
other.  In  these  respects  there  still  remains  in  Spanish  life, 
especially  in  the  provinces,  much  of  the  vaunted  simplicity  of  the 
olden  time. 

The  most  interesting  member  of  this  family  group,  in  my 
eyes,  was  the  daughter  of  the  count,  the  lovely  little  Carmen ; 
she  was  but  about  sixteen  years  of  age,  and  appeared  to  be  con- 
sidered a  mere  child,  though  the  idol  of  the  family,  going  gene- 
rally by  the  child-like,  but  endearing  appellation  of  la  Nina. 
Her  form  had  not  yet  attained  full  maturity  and  development, 
but  possessed  already  the  exquisite  symmetry  and  pliant  grace 
so  prevalent  in  this  country.  Her  blue  eyes,  fair  complexion, 
and  light  hair,  were  unusual  in  Andalusia,  and  gave  a  mildness 
and  gentleness  to  her  demeanor  in  contrast  to  the  usual  fire  of 
Spanish  beauty,  but  in  unison  with  the  guileless  and  confiding 
innocence  of  her  manners.  She  had  at  the  same  time  the  innate 
aptness  and  versatility  of  her  fascinating  countrywomen.  What- 
ever she  undertook  to  do  she  did  well  and  apparently  without 
effort.  She  sang,  played  the  guitar  and  other  instruments,  and 
danced  the  picturesque  dances  of  her  country  to  admiration,  but 
never  seemed  to  seek  admiration.  Every  thing  was  spontaneous, 
prompted  by  her  own  gay  spirits  and  happy  temper. 

The  presence  of  this  fascinating  little  being  spread  a  new 


LA   NI&A.  195 

charm  about  the  Alhambra,  and  seemed  to  be  in  unison  with  the 
place.  While  the  count  and  countess,  with  the  chaplain  or  secre- 
tary, were  playing  their  game  of  tresillo  under  the  vestibule  of 
the  court  of  Lions,  she,  attended  by  Dolores,  who  acted  as  her 
maid  of  honor,  would  sit  by  one  of  the  fountains,  and  accompany- 
ing herself  on  the  guitar,  would  sing  some  of  those  popular  ro- 
mances which  abound  in  Spain,  or,  what  was  still  more  to  my 
taste,  some  traditional  ballad  about  the  Moors. 

Never  shall  I  think  of  the  Alhambra  without  remembering 
this  lovely  little  being,  sporting  in  happy  and  innocent  girlhood 
in  its  marble  halls,  dancing  to  the  sound  of  the  Moorish  casta- 
nets, or  mingling  the  silver  warbling  of  her  voice  with  the  music 
of  its  fountains. 


RELICS  AM)  GENEALOGIES, 

IF  I  had  been  pleased  and  interested  by  the  count  and  his  family 
as  furnishing  a  picture  of  a  Spanish  domestic  life,  I  was  still 
more  so  when  apprised  of  historical  circumstances  which  linked 
them  with  the  heroic  times  of  Granada.  In  fact,  in  this  worthy 
old  cavalier,  so  totally  unwarlike,  or  whose  deeds  in  arms  extend- 
ed, at  most,  to  a  war  on  swallows  and  martlets,  I  discovered  a 
lineal  descendant  and  actual  representative  of  Gonsalvo  of  Cor- 
dova, "  The  Grand  Captain,"  who  won  some  of  .his  brightest  laurels 
before  the  walls  of  Granada,  and  was  one  of  the  cavaliers  com- 
missioned by  Ferdinand  and  Isabella  to  negotiate  the  terms  of 
surrender ;  nay,  more,  the  count  was  entitled,  did  he  choose  it, 
to  claim  remote  affinity  with  some  of  the  ancient  Moorish  princes, 
through  a  scion  of  his  house,  Don  Pedro  Venegas,  surnamed  the 
Tornadizo ;  and  by  the  same  token,  his  daughter,  the  fascinating 
little  Carmen,  might  claim  to  be  rightful  representative  of  the 
princess  Cetimerien  or  the  beautiful  Lindaraxa.* 

*  Lest  this  should  be  deemed  a  mere  stretch  of  fancy,  the  reader  is  referred 
to  the  following  genealogy,  derived  by  the  historian  Alcantara,  from  an  Ara- 
bian manuscript,  on  parchment,  in  the  archives  of  the  marquis  of  Corvera,  It 
is  a  specimen  of  the  curious  affinities  between  Christians  and  Moslems,  pro- 
duced by  capture  and  intermarriages,  during  the  Moorish  wars.  From  Abcu 


KELIQTTES   CF  THE  CONQUEST.  197 

Understanding  from  the  count  that  he  had  some  curious 
relics  of  the  Conquest,  preserved  in  his  family  archives,  I 
accompanied  him  early  one  morning  down  to  his  palace  in  Gra- 
nada to  examine  them.  The  most  important  of  these  relics 
was  the  sword  of  the  Grand  Captain ;  a  weapon  destitute  of  all 
ostentatious  ornament,  as  the  weapons  of  great  generals  are  apt 
to  be,  with  a  plain  hilt  of  ivory  and  a  broad  thin  blade.  It 
might  furnish  a  comment  on  hereditary  honors,  to  see  the  sword 
of  the  grand  captain  legitimately  declined  into  such  feeble  hands. 

The  other  relics  of  the  Conquest  were  a  number  of  espin- 
gardas  or  muskets  of  unwieldy  size  and  ponderous  weight,  wor- 
thy to  rank  with  those  enormous  two-edged  swords  preserved 
in  old  armories,  which  look  like  relics  from  the  days  of  the 
giants. 

Beside  other  hereditary  honors,  I  found  the  old  count  was 
Alferez  mayor,  or  grand  standard-bearer,  in  which  capacity  he 
was  entitled  to  bear  the  ancient  standard  of  Ferdinand  and  Isa- 
bella, on  certain  high  and  solemn  occasions,  and  to  wave  it  over 
their  tombs.  I  was  shown  also  the  caparisons  of  velvet,  sump- 
tuously embroidered  with  gold  and  silver,  for  six  horses,  with 
which  he  appeared  in  state  when  a  new  sovereign  was  to  be  pro- 
claimed in  Granada  and  Seville ;  the  count  mounting  one  of  the 
horses,  and  the  other  five  being  led  by  lackeys  in  rich  liveries. 

Hud,  the  Moorish  king,  the  conqueror  of  the  Almohades,  was  descended  ir 
right  line  Cid  Yahia  Abraham  Alnagar,  prince  of  Almeria,  who  married 
a  daughter  of  king  Bermejo.  They  had  three  children,  commonly  called  the 
Cetimerian  Princes.  1st.  Jusef  ben  Alhamar,  who  for  a  time  usurped  the 
throne  of  Granada.  2d.  The  Prince  Nasar,  who  married  the  celebrated  Lin- 
daraxa.  8d.  The  Princess  Cctimerien,  who  married  Don  Pedro  Vcncgaa, 
captured  by  the  Moors  in  his  boyhood,  a  younger  son  of  the  House  of  Lugvc, 
of  which  house  the  old  count  was  the  present  head. 


198  COSTUMES  OF  THE  MOOES '  OF  ANDALTJS. 

I  had  hoped  to  find  among  the  relics  and  antiquities  of  the 
count's  palace,  some  specimens  of  the  armor  and  weapons  of  the 
Moors  of  Granada,  such  as  I  had  heard  were  preserved  as  tro- 
phies by  the  descendants  of  the  Conquerors  ;  but  in  this  I  was 
disappointed.  I  was  the  more  curious  in  this  particular,  because 
an  erroneous  idea  has  been  entertained  by  many,  as  to  the  cos- 
tumes of  the  Moors  of  Spain ;  supposing  them  to  be  of  the  usual 
oriental  type.  On  the  contrary,  we  have  it  on  the  authority  of 
their  own  writers,  that  they  adopted  in  many  respects  the  fash- 
ions of  the  Christians.  The  turban,  especially,  so  identified  in 
idea  with  the  Moslem,  was  generally  abandoned,  except  in  the 
western  provinces,  where  it  continued  in  use  among  people  of 
rank  and  wealth,  and  those  holding  places  under  government.  A 
woollen  cap,  red  or  green,  was  commonly  worn  as  a  substitute ; 
probably  the  same  kind  originating  in  Barbary,  and  known  by 
the  name  of  Tunis  or  Fez,  which  at  the  present  day  is  worn 
throughout  the  east;  though  generally  under  the  turban.  The 
Jews  were  obliged  to  wear  them  of  a  yellow  color. 

In  Murcia,  Valencia,  and  other  eastern  provinces,  men  of  the 
highest  rank  might  be  seen  in  public  bareheaded.  The  warrior 
king,  Aben  Hud,  never  wore  a  turban,  neither  did  his  rival  and 
competitor  Al  Hamar,  the  founder  of  the  Alhambra.  A  short 
cloak  called  Taylasan  similar  to  that  seen  in  Spain  in  the  six- 
teenth and  seventeenth  centuries,  was  worn  by  all  ranks.  It  had 
a  hood  or  cape  which  people  of  condition  sometimes  drew  over 
the  head ;  but  the  lower  class  never. 

A  Moslem  cavalier  in  the  thirteenth  century,  as  described  by 
Ibnu  Said,  was  equipped  for  war  very  much  in  the  Christian 
style.  Over  a  complete  suit  of  mail  he  wore  a  short  scarlet 
tunic  His  helmet  was  of  polished  steel ;  a  shield  was  slung  at 


COSTUMES   OF  THE  MOORS   OF  ANDALUS.  199 

his  back  ;  lie  wielded  a  huge  spear  with  a  broad  point,  sometimes 
a  double  point.  His  saddle  was  cumbrous,  projecting  very  much 
in  front  and  in  rear,  and  he  rode  with  a  banner  fluttering  behind 
him. 

In  the  time  of  Al  Khattib  of  Granada,  who  wrote  in  the  four 
teenth  century,  the  Moslems  of  Andalus  had  resumed  the  orien- 
tal costumes,  and  were  again  clad  and  armed  in  Arabic  fashion : 
with  light  helmet,  thin  but  well  tempered  cuirass,  long  slender 
lance,  commonly  of  reed,  Arabian  saddle  and  leathern  buckler, 
made  of  double  folds  of  the  skin  of  the  antelope.  A  wonderful 
luxury  prevailed  at  that  time  in  the  arms  and  equipments  of  the 
Granadian  cavaliers.  Their  armor  was  inlaid  with  gold  and  sil- 
ver. Their  cimeters  were  of  the  keenest  Damascus  blades,  with 
sheaths  richly  wrought  and  enamelled,  and  belts  of  golden  fila- 
gree studded  with  gems.  Their  daggers  of  Fez  had  jewelled 
hilts,  and  their  lances  were  set  off  with  gay  banderoles.  Their 
horses  were  caparisoned  in  correspondent  style,  with  velvet  and 
embroidery. 

All  this  minute  description,  given  by  a  contemporary,  and  an 
author  of  distinction,  verifies  those  gallant  pictures  in  the  old 
Morisco  Spanish  ballads  which  have  sometimes  been  deemed 
apocryphal,  and  give  a  vivid  idea  of  the  brilliant  appearance  of 
the  chivalry  of  Granada,  when  marshalled  forth  in  wailike  array, 
or  when  celebrating  the  chivalrous  fetes  of  the  Vivarrarabla. 


THE    GENERALIFE. 

HIGH  above  the  Alhambra,  on  the  breast  of  ,he  mountain, 
amidst  embowered  gardens  and  stately  terraces,  rise  the  lofty 
towers  and  white  walls  of  the  Generalife  ;  a  fairy  palace,  full  of 
storied  recollections.  Here  is  still  to  be  seen  the  famous  cypresses 
of  enormous  size  which  flourished  in  the  time  of  the  Moors,  and 
which  tradition  has  connected  with  the  fabulous  story  of  Boab- 
dil  and  his  sultana. 

Here  are  preserved  the  portraits  of  many  who  figured  in 
the  romantic  drama  of  the  Conquest.  Ferdinand  and  Isabella, 
Ponce  de  Leon,  the  gallant  marquis  of  Cadiz,  and  Garci- 
laso  de  la  Vega,  who  slew  in  desperate  fight  Tarfe  the  Moor, 
a  champion  of  Herculean  strength.  Here  too  hangs  a  por 
trait  which  has  long  passed  for  that  of  the  unfortunate  Boab- 
dil,  but  which  is  said  to  be  that  of  Aben  Hud,  the  Moorish 
king  from  whom  descended  the  princes  of  Almeria.  From 
one  of  these  princes,  who  joined  the  standard  of  Ferdinand  and 
Isabella  towards  the  close  of  the  Conquest,  and  was  christianized 
by  the  name  of  Don  Pedro  de  Granada  Venegas,  was  descended 
the  present  proprietor  of  the  palace,  the  marquis  of  Campo- 
tejar.  The  proprietor,  however,  dwells  in  a  foreign  land,  and 
the  palace  has  no  longer  a  princely  inhabitant. 


THE   GENEEALIFE.  201 

Yet  here  is  every  thing  to  delight  a  southern  voluptuary ; 
fruits,  flowers,  fragrance,  green  arbors  and  myrtle  hedges,  delicate 
air  and  gushing  waters.  Here  I  had  an  opportunity  of  wit- 
nessing those  scenes  which  painters  are  fond  of  depicting  about 
southern  palaces  and  gardens.  It  was  the  saint's  day  of  the 
count's  daughter,  and  she  had  brought  up  several  of  her  youthful 
companions  from  Granada,  to  sport  away  a  long  summer's  day 
among  the  breezy  halls  and  bowers  of  the  Moorish  palaces.  A 
visit  to  the  Generalife  was  the  morning's  entertainment.  Here 
pome  of  the  gay  company  dispersed  itself  in  groups  about  the 
green  walks,  the  bright  fountains,  the  flights  of  Italian  steps, 
the  noble  terraces  and  marble  balustrades.  Others,  among  whom 
I  was  one,  took  their  seats  in  an  open  gallery  or  colonnade  com- 
manding a  vast  prospect ;  with  the  Alhambra,  the  city,  and  the 
Vega,  far  below,  and  the  distant  horizon  of  mountains — a  dreamy 
world,  all  glimmering  to  the  eye  in  summer  sunshine.  While 
thus  seated,  the  all-pervading  tinkling  of  the  guitar  and  click  of 
the  castanets  came  stealing  up  from  the  valley  of  the  Darro,  and 
halfway  down  the  mountain  we  descried  a  festive  party  under 
the  trees  enjoying  themselves  in  true  Andaiusian  style ;  some 
lying  on  the  grass,  others  dancing  to  the  music. 

All  these  sights  and  sounds,  together  with  the  princely  seclu- 
sion of  the  place,  the  sweet  quiet  which  prevailed  around,  and  the 
delicious  serenity  of  the  weather  had  a  witching  effect  upon  the 
mind,  and  drew  from  some  of  the  company,  versed  in  local  story, 
several  of  the  popular  fancies  and  traditions  connected  with  this 
old  Moorish  palace ;  they  were  "  such  stuff  as  dreams  are  made 
of,"  but  out  of  them  I  have  shaped  the  following  legend ;  which 
I  hope  may  have  the  good  fortune  to  prove  acceptable  to  the 
reader. 

9* 


LEGEND  OF  PRINCE  AHMED  AL  KAMEL; 

OR, 

THE  PILGRIM  OF  LOVE. 

THERE  was  once  a  Moorish  king  of  Granada,  who  had  but  one 
son,  whom  ho  named  Ahmed,  to  which  his  courtiers  added  the 
surname  of  al  Kamel,  or  the  perfect,  from  the  indubitable  signs 
of  superexcellence  which  they  perceived  in  him  in  his  very 
infancy.  The  astrologers  countenanced  them  in  their  foresight, 
predicting  every  thing  in  his  favor  that  could  make  a  perfect 
prince  and  a  prosperous  sovereign.  One  cloud  only  rested 
upon  his  destiny,  and  even  that  was  of  a  roseate  hue  ;  he  would 
be  of  an  amorous  temperament,  and  run  great  perils  from  the 
tender  passion.  If,  however,  he  could  be  kept  from  the  allure- 
ments of  love  until  of  mature  age,  these  dangers  would  be 
averted,  and  his  life  thereafter  be  one  uninterrupted  course  of 
felicity. 

To  prevent  all  danger  of  the  kind,  the  king  wisely  determined 
to  rear  the  prince  in  a  seclusion  where  he  should  never  see  a 
female  face,  nor  hear  even  the  name  of  love.  For  this  purpose 
he  built  a  beautiful  palace  on  the  brow  of  the  hill  above  the  At 
hambra,  in  the  midst  of  delightful  gardens,  but  surrounded  by 


AN  AKABIAN   SAGE.  203 

lofty  walls,  being,  in  fact,  the  same  palace  known  at  the  present 
day  by  the  name  of  the  Generalife.  In  this  palace  the  youthful 
prince  was  shut  up,  and  intrusted  to  the  guardianship  and  in- 
struction of  Eben  Bonabben,  one  of  the  wisest  and  dryest  of 
Arabian  sages,  who  had  passed  the  greatest  part  of  his  life  in 
Egypt,  studying  hieroglyphics,  and  making  researches  among  the 
tombs  and  pyramids,  and  who  saw  more  charms  in  an  Egyptian 
mummy  than  in  the  most  tempting  of  living  beauties.  The  sage 
was  ordered  to  instruct  the  prince  in  all  kinds  of  knowledge 
but  one — he  was  to  be  kept  utterly  ignorant  of  love.  '"  Use  every 
precaution  for  the  purpose  you  may  think  proper,"  said  the  king, 
"  but,  remember,  0  Eben  Bonabben,  i£  my  son  learns  aught  o{ 
that  forbidden  knowledge  while  under  your  care,  your  head  shall 
answer  for  it."  A  withered  smile  came  over  the  dry  visage  of 
the  wise  Bonabben  at  the  menace.  "  Let  your  majesty's  heart 
be  as  easy  about  your  son,  as  mine  is  about  my  head :  am  I  a 
man  likely  to  give  lessons  in  the  idle  passion  ?" 

Under  the  vigilant  care  of  the  philosopher,  the  prince  grew 
up,  in  the  seclusion  of  the  palace  and  its  gardens.  He  had 
black  slaves  to  attend  upon  him  —  hideous  mutes  who  knew 
nothing  of  love,  or  if  they  did,  had  not  words  to  communicate 
it.  His  mental  endowments  were  the  peculiar  care  of  Eben 
Bonabben,  who  sought  to  initiate  him  into  the  abstruse  lore  of 
Egypt ;  but  in  this  the  prince  made  little  progress,  and  it  was 
soon  evident  that  he  had  no  turn  for  philosophy. 

He  was,  however,  amazingly  ductile  for  a  youthful  prince, 
ready  to  follow  any  advice,  and  always  guided  by  the  last  coun- 
sellor. He  suppressed  his  yawns,  and  listened  patiently  to  the 
long  and  learned  discourses  of  Eben  Bonabben,  from  which  he 
imbibed  a  smattering  of  various  kinds  of  knowledge,  and  thus 


204:  THE  DISCOVERY   OF  A  HEART. 

happily  attained  his  twentieth  year,  a  miracle  of  princely  wisdom 
— but  totally  ignorant  of  love. 

About  this  time,  however,  a  change  came  over  the  conduct  of 
the  prince.  He  completely  abandoned  his  studies,  and  took  to 
strolling  about  the  gardens,  and  musing  by  the  side  of  the  foun- 
tains. He  had  been  taught  a  little  music  among  his  various 
accomplishments ;  it  now  engrossed  a  great  part  of  his  time,  and 
a  turn  for  poetry  became  apparent.  The  sage  Eben  Bonabben 
took  the  alarm,  and  endeavored  to  work  these  idle  humors  out  of 
him  by  a  severe  course  of  algebra ;  but  the  prince  turned  from  it 
with  distaste.  h  I  cannot  endure  algebra,"  said  he ;  "  it  is  an 
abomination  to  me.  I  want  something  that  speaks  more  to  the 
heart." 

The  sage  Eben  Bonabben  shook  his  dry  head  at  the  words 
"  Here  is  an  end  to  philosophy,"  thought  he.  "  The  prince  has 
discovered  he  has  a  heart !"  He  now  kept  anxious  watch  upon 
his  pupil,  and  saw  that  the  latent  tenderness  of  his  nature  was  in 
activity,  and  only  wanted  an  object.  He  wandered  about  the  gar- 
dens of  the  Generalife  in  an  intoxication  of  feelings  of  which  he 
knew  not  the  cause.  Sometimes  he  would  sit  plunged  in  a  deli- 
cious reverie ;  then  he  would  seize  his  lute,  and  draw  from  it  the 
most  touching  notes,  and  then  throw  it  aside,  and  break  forth 
into  sighs  and  ejaculations. 

By  degrees  this  loving  disposition  began  to  extend  to  inani- 
mate objects  ;  he  had  his  favorite  flowers,  which  he  cherished  with 
tender  assiduity  ;  then  he  became  attached  to  various  trees,  and 
there  was  one  in  particular,  of  a  graceful  form  and  drooping  foli- 
age, on  which  he  lavished  his  amorous  devotion,  carving  his  name 
on  its  bark,  hanging  garlands  on  its  branches,  and  singing  coup 
lets  in  its  praise,  to  the  accompaniment  of  his  lute. 


THE   LANGUAGE   OF  BIRDS.  205 

Eben  Bonabben  was  alarmed  at  this  excited  state  of  his  pupil 
He  saw  him  on  the  very  brink  of  forbidden  knowledge — the  least- 
hint  might  reveal  to  him  the  fatal  secret.  Trembling  for  the 
safety  of  the  prince  and  the  security  of  his  own  head,  he  hastened 
to  draw  him  from  the  seductions  of  the  garden,  and  shut  him  up 
n  the  highest  tower  of  the  Generalife.  It  contained  beautiful 
apartments,  and  commanded  an  almost  boundless  prospect,  but 
was  elevated  far  above  that  atmosphere  of  sweets  and  those  witch- 
ing bowers  so  dangerous  to  the  feelings  of  the  too  susceptible 
Ahmed. 

What  was  to  be  done,  however,  to  reconcile  him  to  this  re- 
straint and  to  beguile  the  tedious  hours?  He  had  exhausted 
almost  all  kinds  of  agreeable  knowledge  ;  and  algebra  was  not  to 
be  mentioned.  Fortunately  Eben  Bonabben  had  been  instructed, 
when  in  Egypt,  in  the  language  of  birds,  by  a  Jewish  Rabbin, 
who  had  received  it  in  lineal  transmission  from  Solomon  the  wise, 
who  had  been  taught  it  by  the  queen  of  Sheba.  At  the  very  men- 
tion of  such  a  study,  the  eyes  of  the  prince  sparkled  with  anima- 
tion, and  he  applied  himself  to  it  with  such  avidity,  that  he  soon 
became  as  great  an  adept  as  his  master. 

The  tower  of  the  Generalife  was  no  longer  a  solitude ;  he  had 
companions  at  hand  with  whom  he  could  converse.  The  first 
acquaintance  he  formed  was  with  a  hawk,  who  built  his  nest 
in  a  crevice  of  the  lofty  battlements,  whence  he  soared  far  and 
wide  in  quest  of  prey.  The  prince,  however,  found  little  to  like 
or  esteem  in  him.  He  was  a  mere  pirate  of  the  air,  swaggering 
and  boastful,  whose  talk  was  all  about  rapine  and  carnage,  and 
desperate  exploits. 

His  next  acquaintance  was  an  owl,  a  mighty  wise  looking  bird, 
with  a  huge  head  and  staring  eyes,  who  sat  blinking  and  goggling 
9* 


206  THE  BIKDS  OF  THE  TOWER. 

all  day  in  a  hole  in  the  wall,  but  roamed  forth  at  night.  He  had 
great  pretensions  to  wisdom,  talked  something  of  astrology  and 
the  moon,  and  hinted  at  the  dark  sciences ;  he  was  grievously 
given  to  metaphysics,  and  the  prince  found  his  prosings  even  more 
ponderous  than  those  of  the  sage  Eben  Bonabben. 

Then  there  was  a  bat,  that  hung  all  day  by  his  heels  in  the 
dark  corner  of  a  vault,  but  sallied  out  in  slipshod  style  at  twi- 
light. He,  however,  had  but  twilight  ideas  on  all  subjects,  de- 
rided things  of  which  he  had  taken  but  an  imperfect  view,  and 
seemed  to  take  delight  in  nothing. 

Besides  these  there  was  a  swallow,  with  whom  the  prince  was 
at  first  much  taken.  He  was  a  smart  talker,  but  restless,  bust- 
ling, and  for  ever  on  the  wing ;  seldom  remaining  long  enough 
for  any  continued  conversation.  He  turned  out  in  the  end  to  be 
a  mere  smatterer,  who  did  but  skim  over  the  surface  of  things, 
pretending  to  know  every  thing,  but  knowing  nothing  thoroughly. 

These  were  the  only  feathered  associates  with  whom  the  prince 
had  any  opportunity  of  exercising  his  newly  acquired  language ; 
the  tower  was  too  high  for  any  other  birds  to  frequent  it.  He 
soon  grew  weary  of  his  new  acquaintances,  whose  conversation 
spoke  so  little  to  the  head,  and  nothing  to  the  heart ;  and  gradu- 
ally relapsed  into  his  loneliness.  A  winter  passed  away,  spring 
opened  with  all  its  bloom  and  verdure  and  breathing  sweetness, 
and  the  happy  time  arrived  for  birds  to  pair  and  build  their  nests. 
Suddenly,  as  it  were,  a  universal  burst  of  song  and  melody  broke 
forth  from  the  groves  and  gardens  of  the  Generalife,  and  reached 
the  prince  in  the  solitude  of  his  tower.  From  every  side  he 
heard  the  same  universal  theme — love — love — love — chanted 
forth,  and  responded  to  it  in  every  variety  of  note  and  tone.  The 
prince  listened  in  silence  and  perplexity.  "  What  can  be  this 


INQUIRY   AFTEK   LOVE.  207 

love,"  thought  he,  "of  which  the  world  seems  so  full,  and  of 
which  I  know  nothing  ?"  He  applied  for  information  to  his  friend 
he  hawk.  The  ruffian  bird  answered  in  a  tone  of  scorn  :  "  You 
must  apply,"  said  he,  "  to  the  vulgar  peaceable  birds  of  earth, 
who  are  made  for  the  prey  of  us  princes  of  the  air.  My  trade  is 
war,  and  fighting  my  delight.  I  am  a  warrior,  and  know  nothing 
of  this  thing  called  love." 

The  prince  turned  from  him  with  disgust,  and  sought  the  owl 
in  his  retreat.  "  This  is  a  bird,"  said  he,  "  of  peaceful  habits, 
and  may  be  able  to  solve  my  question."  So  he  asked  the  owl  to 
tell  him  what  was  this  love  about  which  all  the  birds  in  the  groves 
below  were  singing. 

Upon  this,  the  owl  put  on  a  look  of  offended  dignity.  "  My 
nights,"  said  he,  h  are  taken  up  in  study  and  research,  and  my 
days  in  ruminating  in  my  cell  upon  all  that  I  have  learnt.  As 
to  these  singing  birds  of  whom  you  talk,  I  never  listen  to  them 
— I  despise  them  and  their  themes.  Allah  be  praised,  I  cannot 
sing ;  I  am  a  philosopher,  and  know  nothing  of  this  thing  called 
love." 

The  prince  now  repaired  to  the  vault,  where  his  friend  the 
bat  was  hanging  by  the  heels,  and  propounded  the  same  question. 
The  bat  wrinkled  up  his  nose  into  a  most  snappish  expression. 
"  Why  do  you  disturb  me  in  my  morning's  nap  with  such  an  idle 
question  ?"  said  he,  peevishly.  "  I  only  fly  by  twilight,  when  all 
birds  are  asleep,  and  never  trouble  myself  with  their  concerns.  I 
am  neither  bird  nor  beast,  and  I  thank  heaven  for  it.  I  have 
found  out  the  villany  of  the  whole  of  them,  and  hate  them  one 
and  all.  In  a  word,  I  am  a  misanthrope — and  know  nothing  of 
this  thing  called  love." 

As  a  last  resort,  the  prince  now  sought   the  swallow,  and 


208  INQUIRY  AFTER  LOVE. 

stopped  him  just  as  he  was  circling  about  the  summit  of 
the  tower.  The  swallow,  as  usual,  was  in  a  prodigious  hurry, 
and  had  scarce  time  to  make  a  reply.  "Upon  my  word," 
said  he,  "  I  have  so  much  public  business  to  attend  to,  and  so 
many  pursuits  to  follow,  that  I  have  had  no  time  to  think  on  the 
subject.  I  have  every  day  a  thousand  visits  to  pay  ;  a  thousand 
affairs  of  importance  to  examine  into,  that  leave  me  not  a  moment 
of  leisure  for  these  little  sing-song  matters.  In  a  word,  I  am  a 
citizen  of  the  world — I  know  nothing  of  this  thing  called  love." 
So  saying,  the  swallow  dived  into  the  valley,  and  was  out  of  sight 
in  a  moment. 

The  prince  remained  disappointed  and  perplexed,  but  with 
his  curiosity  still  more  piqued  by  the  difficulty  of  gratifying  it. 
"While  in  this  mood,  his  ancient  guardian  entered  the  tower. 
The  prince  advanced  eagerly  to  meet  him.  "  0,  Eben  Bonab- 
ben,"  cried  he,  "  thou  hast  revealed  to  me  much  of  the  wisdom  of 
the  earth ;  but  there  is  one  thing  of  which  I  remain  in  utter 
ignorance,  and  would  fain  be  informed."  ' 

"  My  prince  has  but  to  make  the  inquiry,  and  every  thing 
within  the  limited  range  of  his  servant's  intellect  is  at  his  com- 
mand." 

"  Tell  me  then,  0  most  profound  of  sages,  what  is  the  nature 
of  this  thing  called  love  ?" 

Eben  Bonabben  was  struck  as  with  a  thunderbolt.  He 
trembled  and  turned  pale,  and  felt  as  if  his  head  sat  but  loosely 
on  his  shoulders. 

"  What  could  suggest  such  a  question  to  my  prince — where 
could  he  have  learnt  so  idle  a  word  ?" 

The  prince  led  him  to  the  window  of  the  tower.  "  Listen, 
0  Eben  Bonabben,"  said  he.  The  sage  listened.  The  nightin- 


LOVE   DEFINED.  209 

gales  at  in  a  thicket  below  the  tower,  singing  to  his  paramour  the 
rose ;  from  every  blossomed  spray  and  tufted  grove  rose  a  strain 
of  melody;  and  love  —  love  —  love — was  still  the  unvarying 
strain. 

"  Allah  Akbar !  God  is  great !"  exclaimed  the  wise  Bonab- 
ben.  "  "Who  shall  pretend  to  keep  this  secret  from  the  heart 
of  man,  when  even  the  birds  of  the  air  conspire  to  betray  it  ?" 

Then  turning  to  Ahmed — c/>  0  my  prince,"  cried  he,  "  shut 
thine  ears  to  these  seductive  strains.  Close  thy  mind  against 
this  dangerous  knowledge.  Know  that  this  love  is  the  cause  of 
half  the  ills  of  wretched  mortality.  It  is  this  which  produces 
bitterness  and  strife  between  brethren  and  friends ;  which  causes 
treacherous  murder  and  desolating  war.  Care  and  sorrow,  weary 
days  and  sleepless  nights,  are  its  attendants.  It  withers  the 
bloom  and  blights  the  joys  of  youth,  and  brings  on  the  ills  and 
griefs  of  premature  old  age.  Allah  preserve  thee,  my  prince,  in 
total  ignorance  of  this  thing  called  love  1" 

The  sage  Eben  Bonabben  hastily  retired,  leaving  the  prince 
plunged  in  still  deeper  perplexity.  It  was  in  vain  he  attempted 
to  dismiss  the  subject  from  his  mind  ;  it  still  continued  upper- 
most in  his  thoughts,  and  teased  and  exhausted  him  with  vain 
conjectures.  Surely,  said  he  to  himself,  as  he  listened  to  the 
tuneful  strains  of  the  birds,  there  is  no  sorrow  in  those  notes ; 
every  thing  seems  tenderness  and  joy.  If  love  be  a  cause  of 
such  wretchedness  and  strife,  why  are  not  these  birds  drooping 
in  solitude,  or  tearing  each  other  in  pieces,  instead  of  fluttering 
cheerfully  about  the  groves,  or  sporting  with  each  other  among 
flowers  ? 

He  lay  one  morning  on  his  couch  meditating  on  this  inexpli- 
cable matter.  The  window  of  his  chamber  was  open  to  admit 


210  THE  FAITHFUL  DOVE. 

the  soft  morning  breeze,  which  came  laden  with  the  perfume  of 
orange  blossoms  from  the  valley  of  the  Darro.  The  voice  of  the 
nightingale  was  faintly  heard,  still  chanting  the  wonted  theme. 
As  the  prince  was  listening  and  sighing,  there  was  a  sudden  rush- 
ing noise  in  the  air ;  a  beautiful  dove,  pursued  by  a  hawk,  darted 
in  at  the  window,  and  fell  panting  on  the  floor ;  while  the  pur- 
suer, balked  of  his  prey,  soared  off  to  the  moantains. 

The  prince  took  up  the  gasping  bird,  smoothed  its  feathers, 
and  nestled  it  in  his  bosom.  When  he  had  soothed  it  by  his 
caresses,  he  put  it  in  a  golden  cage,  and  offered  it,  with  his  own 
hands,  the  whitest  and  finest  of  wheat  and  the  purest  of  water. 
The  bird,  however,  refused  food,  and  sat  drooping  and  pining,  and 
uttering  piteous  moans. 

"What  aileth  thee?"  said  Ahmed.  "Hast  thou  not  every 
thing  thy  heart  can  wish?" 

"  Alas,  no  !"  replied  the  dove ;  "  am  I  not  separated  from  the 
partner  of  my  heart,  and  that  too  in  the  happy  spring-time,  the 
very  season  of  love  !" 

"  Of  love  !"  echoed  Ahmed;  "  I  pray  thee,  my  pretty  bird, 
canst  thou  then  tell  me  what  is  love  ?" 

"  Too  well  can  I,  my  prince.  It  is  the  torment  of  one,  the 
felicity  of  two,  the  strife  and  enmity  of  three.  It  is  a  charm 
which  draws  two  beings  together,  and  unites  them  by  delicious 
sympathies,  making  it  happiness  to  be  with  each  other,  but 
misery  to  be  apart.  Is  there  no  being  to  whom  you  are  drawn 
by  these  ties  of  tender  affection  ?" 

"  I  like  my  old  teacher  Eben  Bonabben  better  than  any  other 
being ;  but  he  is  often  tedious,  and  I  occasionally  feel  myself 
happier  without  his  society." 

"  That  is  not  the  sympathy  I  mean.     I  speak  of  love,  the 


THE  FIRST  LESSON   OF   LOVE.  211 

great  mystery  and  principle  of  life :  the  intoxicating  revel  of 
youth ;  the  sober  delight  of  age.  Look  forth,  my  prince,  and 
behold  how  at  this  blest  season  all  nature  is  full  of  love.  Every 
created  being  has  its  mate  ;  the  most  insignificant  bird  sings  to  its 
paramour  ;  the  very  beetle  wooes  its  lady-beetle  in  the  dust,  and 
yon  butterflies  which  you  see  fluttering  high  above  the  tower 
and  toying  in  the  air,  are  happy  in  each  other's  loves.  Alas, 
my  prince !  hast  thou  spent  so  many  of  the  precious  days  of 
youth  without  knowing  any  thing  of  love  ?  Is  there  no  gentle 
being  of  another  sex — no  beautiful  princess  nor  lovely  damsel 
who  has  ensnared  your  heart,  and  filled  your  bosom  with  a  soft 
tumult  of  pleasing  pains  and  tender  wishes  ?" 

"  I  begin  to  understand,"  said  the  prince,  sighing ;  "  such  a 
tumult  I  have  more  than  once  experienced,  without  knowing  the 
cause ;  and  where  should  I  seek  for  an  object  such  as  you  de- 
scribe, in  this  dismal  solitude  ?" 

A  little  further  conversation  ensued,  and  the  first  amatory 
lesson  of  the  prince  was  complete. 

"  Alas  I"  said  he,  "  if  love  be  indeed  such  a  delight,  and  its  in- 
terruption such  a  misery,  Allah  forbid  that  I  should  mar  the  joy 
of  any  of  its  votaries."  He  opened  the  cage,  took  out  the  dove, 
and  having  fondly  kissed  it,  carried  it  to  the  window.  "  Go, 
happy  bird/  said  he,  "  rejoice  with  the  partner  of  thy  heart  in 
the  days  of  youth  and  spring-time.  "Why  should  I  make  thee 
a  fellow-prisoner  in  this  dreary  tower,  where  love  can  never 
enter  ?" 

The  dove  flapped  its  wings  in  rapture,  gave  one  vault  into 
the  air,  and  then  swooped  downward  on  whistling  wings  to  the 
blooming  bowers  of  the  Darro. 

The  prince  followed  him  with  his  eyes,  and  then  gave  way 


212  THE'  SAGE  IN  PERIL. 

to  bitter  repining.  The  singing  of  the  birds  which  once  delight 
ed  him,  now  added  to  his  bitterness.  Love  !  love  !  love !  Alas, 
poor  youth  !  he  now  understood  the  strain. 

His  eyes  flashed  fire  when  next  he  beheld  the  sage  Bonab- 
ben.  "  Why  hast  thou  kept  me  in  this  abject  ignorance  ?"  cried 
he.  "  Why  has  the  great  mystery  and  principle  of  life  been 
withheld  from  me,  in  which  I  find  the  meanest  insect  is  so  learn 
,  ed  ?  Behold  all  nature  is  in  a  revel  of  delight.  Every  created 
being  rejoices  with  its  mate.  This  —  this  is  the  love  about 
which  I  have  sought  instruction.  Why  am  I  alone  debarred  ity 
enjoyment  ?  Why  has  so  much  of  my  youth  been  wasted  without 
a  knowledge  of  its  raptures  ?" 

The  sage  Bonabben  saw  that  all  further  reserve  was  useless ; 
for  the  prince  had  acquired  the  dangerous  and  forbidden  know- 
ledge. He  revealed  to  him,  therefore,  the  predictions  of  the 
astrologers,  and  the  precautions  that  had  been  taken  in  his  edu- 
cation to  avert  the  threatened  evils.  "  And  now,  my  prince," 
added  he,  "  my  life  is  in  your  hands.  Let  the  king  your  father 
discover  that  you  have  learned  the  passion  of  love  while  under 
my  guardianship,  and  my  head  must  answer  for  it." 

The  prince  was  as  reasonable  as  most  young  men  of  his  age, 
and  easily  listened  to  the  remonstrances  of  his  tutor,  since 
nothing  pleaded  against  them.  Besides,  he  really  was  attached 
to  Eben  Bonabben,  and  being  as  yet  but  theoretically  acquainted 
with  the  passion  of  love,  he  consented  to  confine  the  knowledge 
of  it  to  his  own  bosom,  rather  than  endanger  the  head  of  the 
philosopher. 

His  discretion  was  doomed,  however,  to  be  put  to  still  further 
proofs.  A  few  mornings  afterwards,  as  he  was  ruminating  on  the 
battlements  of  the  tower,  the  dove  which  had  been  released  by 


THE  KECLUSE  BEAUTY.  213 

him  came  hovering  in  the  air.  and  alighted  fearlessly  upon  his 
shoulder. 

The  prince  fondled  it  to  his  heart.  "  Happy  bird,"  said  he, 
"  who  can  fly,  as  it  were,  with  the  wings  of  the  morning  to  the 
uttermost  parts  of  the  earth.  Where  hast  tbou  been  since  we 
parted?" 

"  In  a  far  country,  my  prince,  whence  I  bring  you  tidings 
in  reward  for  my  liberty.  In  the  wild  compass  of  my  flight, 
which  extends  over  plain  and  mountain,  as  I  was  soaring 
in  the  air,  I  beheld  below  me  a  delightful  garden  with  all  kinds 
of  fruits  and  flowers.  It  was  in  a  green  meadow,  on  the  banks 
of  a  wandering  stream ;  and  in  the  centre  of  the  garden  was  a 
stately  palace.  I  alighted  in  one  of  the  bowers  to  repose  after 
my  weary  flight.  On  the  green  bank  below  me  was  a  youthful 
princess,  in  the  very  sweetness  and  bloom  of  her  years.  She  was 
surrounded  by  female  attendants,  young  like  herself,  who  decked 
her  with  garlands  and  coronets  of  flowers  ;  but  no  flower  of  field 
or  garden  could  compare  with  her  for  loveliness.  Here,  however, 
she  bloomed  in  secret,  for  the  garden  was  surrounded  by  high 
walls,  and  no  mortal  man  was  permitted  to  enter.  When  I  be- 
held this  beauteous  maid,  thus  young  and  innocent  and  unspotted 
by  the  world,  I  thought,  here  is  the  being  formed  by  heaven  to 
inspire  my  prince  with  love." 

The  description  was  a  spark  of  fire  to  the  combustible  heart 
of  Ahmed ;  all  the  latent  amorousness  of  his  temperament  had 
at  once  found  an  object,  and  he  conceived  an  immeasurable  pas- 
sion for  the  princess.  He  wrote  a  letter,  couched  in  the  most 
impassioned  language,  breathing  his  fervent  devotion,  but  be- 
wailing the  unhappy  thraldom  of  his  person,  which  prevented 
him  from  seeking  her  out  and  throwing  himself  at  her  feet.  He 


214:  THE   ENAMELLED   PICTUBE. 

added  couplets  of  the  most  tender  and  moving  eloquence,  for  he 
was  a  poet  by  nature,  and  inspired  by  love.  He  addressed  his 
letter  — "  To  the  unknown  beauty,  from  the  captive  Prince 
Ahmed ;':  then  perfuming  it  with  musk  and  roses,  he  gave  it  to 
the  dove. 

*:  Away,  trustiest  of  messengers  !"  said  he.  "  Fly  over  moun- 
tain and  valley,  and  river,  and  plain ;  rest  not  in  bower,  nor  set 
foot  on  earth,  until  thou  hast  given  this  letter  to  the  mistress  of 
my  heart." 

The  dove  soared  high  in  air.  and  taking  his  course  darted 
away  in  one  undeviating  direction.  The  prince  followed  him  with 
his  eye  until  he  was  a  mere  speck  on  a  cloud,  and  gradually  dis- 
appeared behind  a  mountain. 

Day  after  day  he  watched  for  the  return  of  the  messenger  of 
love,  but  he  watched  in  vain.  He  began  to  accuse  him  of  forget- 
fulness,  when  towards  sunset  one  evening  the  faithful  bird  flut- 
tered into  his  apartment,  and  falling  at  his  feet  expired.  The 
arrow  of  some  wanton  archer  had  pierced  his  breast,  yet  he  had 
struggled  with  the  lingerings  of  life  to  excute  his  mission.  As 
the  prince  bent  with  grief  over  this*  gentle  martyr  to  fidelity,  he 
beheld  a  chain  of  pearls  round  his  neck,  attached  to  which,  be- 
neath his  wing,  was  a  small  enamelled  picture.  It  represented 
a  lovely  princess  in  the  very  flower  of  her  years.  It  was  doubt- 
less the  unknown  beauty  of  the  garden ;  but  who  and  where  was 
she — how  had  she  received  his  letter,  and  was  this  picture  sent 
as  a  token  of  her  approval  of  his  passion  ?  Unfortunately  the 
death  of  the  faithful  dove  left  every  thing  in  mystery  and 
doubt. 

The  prince  gazed  on  the  picture  till  his  eyes  swam  with 
tears.  He  pressed  it  to  his  lips  and  to  his  heart ;  he  sat  for 


AN  OWL  OF  QUALITY.  215 

hours  contemplating  it  almost  in  an  agony  of  tenderness.  "  Beau- 
tiful image !  said  he,  "  alas,  thou  art  but  an  image !  Yet  thy 
dewy  eyes  beam  tenderly  upon  me ;  those  rosy  lips  look  as 
though  they  would  speak  encouragement :  vain  fancies  !  Have 
they  not  looked  the  same  on  some  more  happy  rival?  But 
where  in  this  wide  world  shall  I  hope  to  find  the  original  ?  Who 
knows  what  mountains,  what  realms  may  separate  us  ;  what  ad- 
verse chances  may  intervene  ?  Perhaps  now,  even  now,  lovers 
may  be  crowding  around  her,  while  I  sit  here  a  prisoner  in  a 
tower,  wasting  my  time  in  adoration  of  a  painted  shadow." 

The  resolution  of  Prince  Ahmed  was  taken.  "I  will  fly 
from  this  palace,"  said  he,  "  which  has  become  an  odious  prison ; 
and,  a  pilgrim  of  love,  will  seek  this  unknown  princess  through- 
out the  world."  To  escape  from  the  tower  in  the  day,  when 
every  one  was  awake,  might  be  a  difficult  matter ;  but  at  night 
the  palace  was  slightly  guarded ;  for  no  one  apprehended  any 
attempt  of  the  kind  from  the  prince,  who  had  always  been  so 
passive  in  his  captivity.  How  was  he  to  guide  himself,  however, 
in  his  darkling  flight,  being  ignorant  of  the  country  ?  He  be- 
thought him  of  the  owl,  who  was  accustomed  to  roam  at  night, 
and  must  know  every  by-lane  and  secret  pass.  Seeking  him  in 
his  hermitage,  he  questioned  him  touching  his  knowledge  of  the 
land.  Upon  this  the  owl  put  on  a  mighty  self-important  look. 
"  You  must  know,  0  prince,"  said  he,  "  that  we  owls  are  of  a 
very  ancient  and  extensive  family,  though  rather  fallen  to  decay, 
and  possess  ruinous  castles  and  palaces  in  all  parts  of  Spain. 
There  is  scarcely  a  tower  of  the  mountains,  or  a  fortress  of  the 
plains,  or  an  old  citadel  of  a  city,  but  has  some  brother  or  uncle, 
or  cousin,  quartered  in  it;  and  in  going  the  rounds  to  visit 
this  my  numerous  kindred,  I  have  pryed  into  every  nook  and 


216  THE   OWL   A   PHILOSOPHER. 

corner,  and  made  myself  acquainted  with  every  secret  of  the 
land." 

The  prince  was  overjoyed  to  find  the  owl  so  deeply  versed  in 
topography,  and  now  informed  him,  in  confidence,  of  his  tender 
passion  and  his  intended  elopement,  urging  him  to  be  his  compa- 
nion and  counsellor. 

"  Go  to  !"  said  the  owl.  with  a  look  of  displeasure ;  "  am  I  a 
bird  to  engage  in  a  love  affair  ?  I  whose  whole  time  is  devoted 
to  meditation  and  the  moon  ?" 

"  Be  not  offended,  most  solemn  owl,"  replied  the  prince ; 
"  abstract  thyself  for  a  time  from  meditation  and  the  moon,  and 
aid  me  in  my  flight,  and  thou  shalt  have  whatever  heart  can  wish." 

"  I  have  that  already,"  said  the  owl :  "  a  few  mice  are  suffi- 
cient for  my  frugal  table,  and  this  hole  in  the  wall  is  spacious 
enough  for  my  studies ;  and  what  more  does  a  philosopher  like 
myself  desire  ?" 

"  Bethink  thee,  most  wise  owl,  that  while  moping  in  thy  cell 
and  gazing  at  the  moon,  all  thy  talents  are  lost  to  the  world.  I 
shall  one  day  be  a  sovereign  prince,  and  may  advance  thee  to 
some  post  of  honor  and  dignity." 

The  owl,  though  a  philosopher  and  above  the  ordinary  wants 
of  life,  was  not  above  ambition  ;  so  he  was  finally  prevailed  on 
to  elope  with  the  prince,  and  be  his  guide  and  mentor  in  his  pil- 
grimage. 

The  plans  of  a  lover  are  promptly  executed.  The  prince 
collected  all  his  jewels,  and  concealed  them  about  his  person  as 
travelling  funds.  That  very  night  he  lowered  himself  by  his 
scarf  from  a  balcony  of  the  tower,  clambered  over  the  outer  walls 
of  the  Generalife,  and,  guided  by  the  owl,  made  good  his  escape 
before  morning  to  the  mountains. 


THE   CABALISTIC   RAVEN. 


21T 


He  now  held  a  council  with  his  mentor  as  to  his  future 
course. 

"  Might  I  advise,"  said  the  owl,  "  I  would  recommend  you  to 
repair  to  Seville.  You  must  know  that  many  years  since  I  waa 
on  a  visit  to  an  uncle,  an  owl  of  great  dignity  and  power,  who 
lived  in  a  ruined  wing  of  the  Alcazar  of  that  place.  In  my 
hoverings  at  night  over  the  city  I  frequently  remarked  a  light 
burning  in  a  lonely  tower.  At  length  I  alighted  on  the  battle- 
ments, and  found  it  to  proceed  from  the  lamp  of  an  Arabian 
magician :  he  was  surrounded  by  his  magic  books,  and  on  his 
shoulder  was  perched  his  familiar,  an  ancient  raven  who  had 
come  with  him  from  Egypt.  I  am  acquainted  with  that  raven, 
and  owe  to  him  a  great  part  of  the  knowledge  I  possess.  The 
magician  is  since  dead,  but  the  raven  still  inhabits  the  tower,  for 
these  birds  are  of  wonderful  long  life.  I  would  advise  you,  O 
prince,  to  seek  that  raven,  for  he  is  a  soothsayer  and  a  conjurer, 
and  deals  in  the  black  art,  for  which  all  ravens,  and  especially 
those  of  Egypt,  are  renowned." 

The  prince  was  struck  with  the  wisdom  of  this  advice,  and 
accordingly  bent  his  course  towards  Seville.  He  travelled  only 
in  the  night,  to  accommodate  his  companion,  and  lay  by  during 
the  day  in  some  dark  cavern  or  mouldering  watchtower,  for  the 
owl  knew  every  hiding  hole  of  the  kind,  and  had  a  most  antiqua- 
rian taste  for  ruins. 

.  At  length  one  morning  at  daybreak  they  reached  the  city  of 
Seville,  where  the  owl,  who  hated  the  glare  and  bustle  of  crowded 
streets,  halted  without  the  gate,  and  took  up  his  quarters  in  a 
hollow  tree. 

The  prince  entered  the  gate,  and  readily  found  the  magic 
tower,  which  rose  above  the  houses  of  the  city,  as  a  palm-trcp 
10 


218  THE   CABALISTIC   KAVEN. 

rises  above  the  shrubs  of  the  desert ;  it  was  in  fact  the  same 
tower  standing  at  the  present  day,  and  known  as  the  Giralda, 
the  famous  Moorish  tower  of  Seville. 

The  prince  ascended  by  a  gre.at  winding  staircase  to  the  sum- 
mit of  the  tower,  where  he  found  the  cabalistic  raven,  an  old, 
mysterious,  gray-headed  bird,  ragged  in  feather,  with  a  film  over 
one  eye  that  gave  him  the  glare  of  a  spectre.  He  was  perched 
on  one  leg,  with  his  head  turned  on  one  side,  poring  with  his  re- 
maining eye  on  a  diagram  described  on  the  pavement. 

The  prince  approached  him  with  the  awe  and  reverence- 
naturally  inspired  by  his  venerable  appearance  and  supernatural 
wisdom.  "Pardon  me,  most  ancient  and  darkly  wise  raven," 
exclaimed  he,  "  if  for  a  moment  I  interrupt  those  studies  which 
are  the  wonder  of  the  world.  You  behold  before  you  a  votary 
of  love,  who  would  fain  seek  your  counsel  how  to  obtain  the 
object  of  his  passion." 

"  In  other  words,"  said  the  raven,  with  a  significant  look, 
"  you  seek  to  try  my  skill  in  palmistry.  Come,  show  me  your 
hand,  and  let  me  decipher  the  mysterious  lines  of  fortune." 

"  Excuse  me,"  said  the  prince,  "  I  come  not  to  pry  into  the 
decrees  of  fate,  which  are  hidden  by  Allah  from  the  eyes  of  mor- 
tals ;  I  am  a  pilgrim  of  love,  and  seek  but  to  find  a  clue  to  the 
object  of  my  pilgrimage." 

"  And  can  you  be  at  any  loss  for  an  object  in  amorous  Anda- 
lusia ?"  said  the  old  raven,  leering  upon  him  with  his  single  eye ; 
"  above  all,  can  you  be  at  a  loss  in  wanton  Seville,  where  black- 
eyed  damsels  dance  the  zambra  under  every  orange  grove  ?" 

The  prince  blushed,  and  was  somewhat  shocked  at  hearing 
an  old  bird  with  one  foot  in  the  grave  talk  thus  loosely.  "  Be- 
lieve me,"  said  he,  gravely,  et  I  am  on  none  such  light  and  vagrant 


THE   CABALISTIC   KAVEN.  219 

errand  as  thou  dost  insinuate.  The  black-eyed  damsels  of  Anda« 
lusia  who  dance  among  the  orange  groves  of  the  Guadalquivir 
are  as  naught  to  me.  I  seek  one  unknown  but  immaculate 
beauty,  the  original  of  this  picture ;  and  I  beseech  thee,  most 
potent  raven,  if  it  be  within  the  scope  of  thy  knowledge  or  the 
reach  of  thy  art,  inform  me  where  she  may  be  found." 

The  gray-headed  raven  was  rebuked  by  the  gravity  of  the 
prince. 

"What  know  I,"  replied  he,  dryly,  "of  youth  and  beauty? 
my  visits  are  to  the  old  and  withered,  not  the  fresh  and  fair :  the 
harbinger  of  fate  am  I ;  who  croak  bodings  of  death  from  the 
chimney  top,  and  flap  my  wings  at  the  sick  man's  window.  You 
must  seek  elsewhere  for  tidings  of  your  unknown  beauty." 

"  And  where  can  I  seek  if  not  among  the  sons  of  wisdom, 
versed  in  the  book  of  destiny  ?  Know  that  I  am  a  royal  prince, 
fated  by  the  stars,  and  sent  on  a  mysterious  enterprise  on  which 
may  hang  the  destiny  of  empires." 

When  the  raven  heard  that  it  was  a  matter  of  vast  moment, 
in  which  the  stars  took  interest,  he  changed  his  tone  and  manner, 
and  listened  with  profound  attention  to  the  story  of  the  prince. 
When  it  was  concluded,  he  replied,  "  Touching  this  princess,  I 
can  give  thee  no  information  of  myself,  for  my  flight  is  not  among 
gardens,  or  around  ladies'  bowers ;  but  hie  thee  to  Cordova,  seek 
the  palm-tree  of  the  great  Abderahman.  which  stands  in  the  court 
of  the  principal  mosque  :  at  the  foot  of  it  thou  wilt  find  a  great 
traveller  who  has  visited  all  countries  and  courts,  and  been  a 
favorite  with  queens  and  princesses.  He  will  give  thee  tidings 
of  the  object  of  thy  search/' 

"  Many  thanks  for  this  precious  information,"  said  the  prince, 
'*  Farewell,  most  venerable  conjurer." 


220  THE  TRAVELLED  PARROT. 

"  Farewell,  pilgrim  of  love/'  said  the  raven,  dryly,  and  again 
fell  to  pondering  on  the  diagram. 

The  prince  sallied  forth  from  Seville,  sought  his  fellow-travel* 
ler  the  owl,  who  was  still  dozing  in  the  hollow  tree,  and  set  off 
for  Cordova. 

He  approached  it  along  hanging  gardens,  and  orange  and  cit- 
ron groves,  overlooking  the  fair  valley  of  the  Guadalquivir. 
When  arrived  at  its  gates  the  owl  flew  up  to  a  dark  hole  in  the 
wall,  and  the  prince  proceeded  in  quest  of  the  palm-tree  planted 
in  days  of  yore  by  the  great  Abderahman.  It  stood  in  the  midst 
of  the  great  court  of  the  mosque,  towering  from  amidst  orange  and 
cypress  trees.  Dervises  and  Faquirs  were  seated  in  groups  under 
the  cloisters  of  the  court,  and  many  of  the  faithful  were  perform- 
ing their  ablutions  at  the  fountains  before  entering  the  mosque. 

At  the  foot  of  the  palm-tree  was  a  crowd  listening  to  the 
words  of  one  who  appeared  to  be  talking  with  great  volubility. 
"  This,"  said  the  prince  to  himself,  "  must  be  the  great  traveller 
who  is  to  give  me  tidings  of  the  unknown  princess."  He  mingled 
in  the  crowd,  but  was  astonished  to  perceive  that  they  were  all 
listening  to  a  parrot,  who  with  his  bright  green  coat,  pragmatical 
eye,  and  consequential  top-knot,  had  the  air  of  a  bird  on  excellent 
terms  with  himself. 

"  How  is  this,"  said  the  prince  to  one  of  the  bystanders,  "  that 
so  many  grave  persons  can  be  delighted  with  the  garrulity  of  a 
chattering  bird  ?" 

u  You  know  not  whom  you  speak  of,"  said  the  other ;  "  this 
parrot  is  a  descendant  of  the  famous  parrot  of  Persia,  renowned 
for  his  story-telling  talent.  He  has  all  the  learning  of  the  East 
at  the  tip  of  his  tongue,  and  and  can  quote  poetry  as  fast  as  he 
can  talk.  He  has  visited  various  foreign  courts,  where  he  has 


THE   TEAVELLED   PARROT. 

been  considered  an  oracle  of  erudition.  He  has  been  a  universal 
favorite  also  with  the  fair  sex,  who  have  a  vast  admiration  for 
erudite  parrots  that  can  quote  poetry." 

"  Enough,"  said  the  prince,  "  I  will  have  sonic  private  talk 
with  this  distinguished  traveller." 

He  sought  a  private  interview,  and  expounded  the  nature  of 
his  errand.  He  had  scarcely  mentioned  it  when  the  parrot  burst 
into  a  fit  of  dry  rickety  laughter  that  absolutely  brought  tears  in 
his  eyes.  "  Excuse  my  merriment,"  said  he,  "  but  the  mere  men- 
tion of  love  always  sets  me  laughing." 

The  prince  was  shocked  at  this  ill-timed  mirth.  "  Is  not 
love,"  said  he,  "the  great  mystery  of  nature,  the  secret  principle 
of  life,  the  universal  bond  of  sympathy  ?" 

"  A  fig's  end !"  cried  the  parrot,  interrupting,  him ;  "  prithee 
where  hast  thou  learned  this  sentimental  jargon  ?  trust  me,  love 
is  quite  out  of  vogue ;  one  never  hears  of  it  in .  the  company  of 
wits  and  people  of  refinement." 

The  prince  sighed  as  he  recalled  the  different  language  of  His 
friend  the  dove.  But  this  parrot,  thought  he,  has  lived  about  the 
court,  he  affects  the  wit  and  the  fine  gentleman,  he  knows  nothing 
of  the  thing  called  love.  Unwilling  to  provoke  any  more  ridicule 
of  the  sentiment  which  filled  his  heart,  he  now  directed  his  in 
quiries  to  the  immediate  purport  of  his  visit. 

"  Tell  me,"  said  he,  "  most  accomplished  parrot,  thou  who 
hast  every  where  been  admitted  to  the  most  secret  bowers  of 
beauty,  hast  thou  in  the  course  of  thy  travels  met  with  the  origi- 
nal of  this  portrait  ?" 

The  parrot  took  the  picture  in  his  claw,  turned  his  head  from 
side  to  side,  and  examined  it  curiously  with  either  eye.  "  Upon 
my  honor,"  said  he,  "  a  very  pretty  face  ;  very  pretty :  bufc  then 


222  THE  TRAVELLED  PARROT. 

one  eecs  so  many  pretty  women  in  one's  travels  that  one  can 
hardly — but  hold — bless  me  !  now  I  look  at  it  again — sure 
enough  this  is  the  princess  Aldegonda  :  how  could  I  forget  one 
that  is  so  prodigious  a  favorite  with  me  !" 

"  The  princess  Aldegonda !"  echoed  the  prince  j  "  and  where 
is  she  to  be  found?" 

"Softly,  softly,"  said  the  parrot,  "easier  to  be  found  than 
gained.  She  is  the  only  daughter  of  the  Christian  king  who 
reigns  at  Toledo,  and  is  shut  up  from  the  world  until  her  seven- 
teenth birth-day,  on  account  of  some  prediction  of  those  meddle- 
some fellows  the  astrologers.  You'll  not  get  a  sight  of  her ;  no 
mortal  man  can  see  her.  I  was  admitted  to  her  presence  to  enter- 
tain her,  and  I  assure  you,  on  the  word  of  a  parrot,  who  has  seen 
the  world,  I  have  conversed  with  much  sillier  princesses  in  my 
time." 

"  A  word  in  confidence,  my  dear  parrot,"  said  the  prince ;  "  I 
am  heir  to  a  kingdom,  and  shall  one  day  sit  upon  a  throne.  I  see 
that  you  are  a  bird  of  parts,  and  understand  the  world.  Help 
me  to  gain  possession  of  this  princess,  and  I  will  advance  you  to 
some  distinguished  place  about  court." 

"  With  all  my  heart,"  said  the  parrot ;  "  but  let  it  be  a  sine- 
cure if  possible,  for  we  wits  have  a  great  dislike  to  labor." 

Arrangements  were  promptly  made ;  the  prince  sallied  forth 
from  (Cordova  through  the  same  gate  by  which  he  had  entered ; 
called  the  owl  down  from  the  hole  in  the  wall,  introduced  him  to 
his  new  travelling  companion  as  a  brother  savant,  and  away  they 
get  off  on  their  journey. 

They  travelled  much  more  slowly  than  accorded  with  the  im- 
patience of  the  prince,  but  the  parrot  was  accustomed  to  high  life, 
and  did  not  like  to  be  disturbed  early  in  the  morning.  The  owl, 


TOLEDO.  223 

on  the  other  hand,  was  for  sleeping  at  mid-day,  and  lost  a  great 
deal  of  time  by  his  long  siestas.  His  antiquarian  taste  also  was 
in  the  way ;  for  he  insisted  on  pausing  and  inspecting  every  ruin, 
and  had  long  legendary  tales  to  tell  about  every  old  tower  and 
castle  in  the  country.  The  prince  had  supposed  that  he  and  "the 
parrot,  being  both  birds  of  learning,  would  delight  in  each  other' 
society,  but  never  had  he  been  more  mistaken.  They  were  eter- 
nally bickering.  The  one  was  a  wit,  the  other  a  philosopher.  The 
parrot  quoted  poetry,  was  critical  on  new  readings  and  eloquent 
on  small  points  of  erudition  ;  the  owl  treated  all  such  knowledge 
as  trifling,  and  relished  nothing  but  metaphysics.  Then  the  par- 
rot would  sing  songs  and  repeat  bon  mots  and  crack  jokes  upon 
his  solemn  neighbor,  and  laugh  outrageously  at  his  own  wit ;  all 
which  proceedings  the  owl  considered  as  a  grievous  invasion  of 
his  dignity,  and  would  scowl  and  sulk  and  swell,  and  be  silent  for 
a  whole  day  together. 

The  prince  heeded  not  the  wranglings  of  his  companions, 
being  wrapped  up  in  the  dreams  of  his  own  fancy  and  the  con- 
templation of  the  portrait  of  the  beautiful  princess.  In  this  way 
they  journeyed  through  the  stern  passes -of  the  Sierra  Morena, 
across  the  sunburnt  plains  of  La  Mancha  and  Castile,  and  along 
the  banks  of  the  "  Golden  Tagus,"  which  winds  its  wizard  mazes 
over  one  half  of  Spain  and  Portugal.  At  length  they  came  in 
sight  of  a  strong  city  with  walls  and  towers  built  on  a  rocky  pro- 
montory, round  the  foot  of  which  the  Tagus  circled  with  brawling 
violence. 

"Behold,"  exclaimed  the  owl,  "the  ancient  and  renowned 
city  of  Toledo ;  a  city  famous  for  its  antiquities.  Behold  those 
venerable  domes  and  towers,  hoary  with  time  and  clothed  with 
legendary  grandeur,  in  which  so  many  of  my  ancestors  have 
meditated." 


224:  THE   AMBASSADOR   PAKEOT. 

u  Pish  !"  cried  the  parrot,  interrupting  his  solemn  antiquarian 
rapture,  '•'  what  have  we  to  do  with  antiquities,  and  legends,  and 
your  ancestry  ?  Behold  what  is  more  to  the  purpose — behold  the 
abode  of  youth  and  beauty — behold  at  length,  0  prince,  the  abode 

» 

f  your  long-Fought  princess." 

The  prince  looked  in  the  direction  indicated  by  the  parrot, 
nd  beheld,  in  a  delightful  green  meadow  on  the  banks  of  the 
Tagus,  a  stately  palace  rising  from  amidst  the  bowers  of  a  deli- 
cious garden.  It  was  just  such  a  place  as  had  been  described  by 
the  dove  as  the  residence  of  the  original  of  the  picture.  He  gazed 
at  it  with  a  throbbing  heart;  "perhaps  at  this  moment,"  thought 
he,  "  the  beautiful  princess  is  sporting  beneath  those  shady 
bowers,  or  pacing  with  delicate  step  those  stately  terraces,  or  re- 
posing beneath  those  lofty  roofs  !"  As  he  looked  more  narrowly 
he  perceived  that  the  walls  of  the  garden  were  of  great  height,  so 
as  to  defy  access,  while  numbers  of  armed  guards  patrolled  around 
them. 

The  prince  turned  to  the  parrot.  "  0  most  accomplished  of 
birds,'*'  said  he,  "  thou  hast  the  gift  of  human  speech.  Hie  thec 
to  yon  garden ;  seek  the  idol  of  my  soul,  and  tell  her  that  prince 
Ahmed,  a  pilgrim  of  love,  and  guided  by  the  stars,  has  arrived  in 
quest  of  her  on  the  flowery  banks  of  the  Tagus." 

The  parrot,  proud  of  his  embassy,  flew  away  to  the  garden, 
mounted  above  its  lofty  walls,  and  after  soaring  for  a  time  over 
the  lawns  and  groves,  alighted  on  the  balcony  of  a  pavilion  that 
overhung  the  river.  Here,  looking  in  at  the  casement,  he  beheld 
the  princess  reclining  on  a  couch,  with  her  eyes  fixed  on  a  paper, 
ttbile  tears  gently  stole  after  each  other  down  her  pallid  cheek. 

Pluming  his  wings  for  a  moment,  adjusting  his  bright  greet 
x>at,  and  elevating  his  top-knot,  the  parrot  perched  himself  beside 


THE  AMBASSADOR  PARROT.  225 

her  with  a  gallant  air:  then  assuming  a  tenderness  of  tone,  "Dry 
thy  tears,  most  beautiful  of  princesses,"  said  he,  "  I  come  to  bring 
solace  to  thy  heart." 

The  princess  was  startled  on  hearing  a  voice,  but  turning  and 
seeing  nothing  but  a  little  green-coated  bird  bobbing  and  bowing 
before  her ;  "  Alas  !  what  solace  canst  thou  yield,"  said  she,  "  see- 
ing thou  art  but  a  parrot  ?" 

The  parrot  was  nettled  at  the  question.  "  1  have  consoled 
many  beautiful  ladies  in  my  time,"  said  he  ;  ;c  but  let  that  pass. 
At  present  I  come  ambassador  from  a  royal  prince.  Know  that 
Ahmed,  the  prince  of  Granada,  has  arrived  in  quest  of  thee,  and 
is  encamped  even  now  on  the  flowery  banks  of  the  Tagus." 

The  eyes  of  the  beautiful  princess  sparkled  at  these  words 
even  brighter  than  the  diamonds  in  her  coronet.  "  0  sweetest  of 
parrots,"  cried  she,  "joyful  indeed  are  thy  tidings,  for  I  was 
faint  and  weary,  and  sick  almost  unto  death  with  doubt  of  the 
constancy  of  Ahmed.  Hie  thee  back,  and  tell  him  that  the  words 
of  his  letter  are  engraven  in  my  heart,  and  his  poetry  has  been 
the  food  of  my  soul.  Tell  him,  however,  that  he  must  prepare  to 
prove  his  love  by  force  of  arms ;  to-morrow  is  my  seventeenth 
birth-day,  when  the  king  my  father  holds  a  great  tournament ; 
several  princes  are  to  enter  the  lists,  and  my  hand  is  to  be  the 
prize  of  the  victor." 

The  parrot  again  took  wing,  and  rustling  through  the  groves, 
flew  back  to  where  the  prince  awaited  his  return.  The  rapture 
of  Ahmed  on  finding  the  original  of  his  adored  portrait,  and  find- 
ing her  kind  and  true,  can  only  be  conceived  by  those  favored 
mortals  who  have  had  the  good  fortune  to  realize  day-dreams 
and  turn  a  shadow  into  substance  :  still  there  was  one  thing  that 
alloyed  his  transport — this  impending  tournament.  In  fact,  the 
10* 


226  ENCHANTED  AEMOB. 

banks  of  the  Tagus  were  already  glittering  with  arms,  and  rc< 
sounding  with  trumpts  of  the  various  knights,  who,  with  proud 
retinues,  were  prancing  on  towards  Toledo  to  attend  the  ceremo 
nial.  The  same  star  that  had  controlled  the  destiny  of  the 
prince  had  governed  that  of  the  princess,  and  until  her  seven- 
teenth birth- day  she  had  been  shut  up  from  the  world,  to  guard 
her  from  the  tender  passion.  The  fame  of  her  charms,  however, 
had  been  enhanced  rather  than  obscured  by  this  seclusion., 
Several  powerful  princes  had  contended  for  her  hand ;  and  her 
father,  who  was  a  king  of  wondrous  shrewdness,  to  avoid  making 
enemies  by  showing  partiality,  had  referred  them  to  the  arbitra- 
ment of  arms.  Among  the  rival  candidates  were  several  renowned 
for  strength  and  prowess.  What  a  predicament  f 6r  the  unfortunate 
Ahmed,  unprovided  as  he  was  with  weapons,  and  unskilled  in  the 
exercise  of  chivalry  !  "  Luckless  prince  that  I  am  !"  said  he, 
"  to  have  been  brought  up  in  seclusion  under  the  eye  of  a  philo- 
sopher !  Of  what  avail  are  algebra  and  philosophy  in  affairs 
of  love  ?  Alas.  Eben  Bonabben !  why  hast  thou  neglected  to 
instruct  me  in  the  management  of  arms  ?"  Upon  this  the  owl 
Droke  silence,  preluding  his  harangue  with  a  pious  ejaculation,  for 
he  was  a  devout  Mussulman. 

"  Allah  Akbar  !  God  is  great !"  exclaimed  he  ;  "  in  his  hands 
are  all  secret  things — he  alone  governs  the  destiny  of  princes  ! 
Know,  0  prince,  that  this  land  is  full  of  mysteries,  hidden  from 
all  but  those  who.  like  myself,  can  grope  after  knowledge  in  the 
dark.  Know  that  in  the  neighboring  mountains  there  is  a  cave, 
and  in  that  cave  there  is  an  iron  table,  and  on  that  table  there 
lies  a  suit  of  magic  armor,  and  beside  that  table  there  stands  a 
spell-bound  steed,  which  have  been  shut  up  there  for  many  gene 
rations," 


ENCHANTED   AEMOR.  227 

The  prince  stared  with  wonder,  while  the  owl,  blinking  his 
huge  round  eyes,  and  erecting  his  horns,  proceeded. 

"  Many  years  since,  I  accompanied  my  father  to  these  parts 
on  a  tour  of  his  estates,  and  we  sojourned  in  that  cave ;  and  thus 
became  I  acquainted  with  the  mystery.  It  is  a  tradition  in  our 
family  which  I  have  heard  from  my  grandfather,  when  I  was  yet 
but  a  very  little  owlet,  that  this  armor  belonged  to  a  Moorish 
magician,  who  took  refuge  in  this  cavern  when  Toledo  was  cap- 
tured by  the  Christians,  and  died  here,  leaving  his  steed  and 
weapons  under  a  mystic  spell,  never  to  be  used  but  by  a  Mos- 
lem, and  by  him  only  from  sunrise  to  mid-day.  In  that  interval, 
whoever  uses  them  will  overthrow  every  opponent." 

"  Enough :  let  us  seek  this  cave  !"  exclaimed  Ahmed. 

Guided  by  his  legendary  mentor,  the  prince  found  the  cavern, 
which  was  in  one  of  the  wildest  recesses  of  those  rocky  cliffs 
which  rise  around  Toledo  ;  none  but  the  mousing  eye  of  an  owl 
or  an  antiquary  could  have  discovered  the  entrance  to  it.  A 
sepulchral  lamp  of  everlasting  oil  shed  a  solemn  light  through 
the  place.  On  an  iron  table  in  the  centre  of  the  cavern  lay  the 
magic  armor,  against  it  leaned  the  lance,  and  beside  it  stood  an 
Arabian  steed,  caparisoned  for  the  field,  but  motionless  as  a 
statue.  The  armor  was  bright  and  unsullied  as  it  had  gleamed 
in  days  of  old ;  the  steed  as  in  good  condition  as  if  just  from  the 
pasture  ;  and  when  Ahmed  laid  his  hand  upon  his  neck,  he  pawed 
the  ground  and  gave  a  loud  neigh  of  joy  that  shook  the  walls  of 
the  cavern.  Thus  amply  provided  with  "  horse  and  rider  and 
weapon  to  wear,"  the  prince  determined  to  defy  the  field  in  the 
impending  tourney. 

The  eventful  morning  arrived.  The  lists  for  the  combat 
were  prepared  in  the  Vega,  or  plain,  just  below  the  cliff-built 


228  THE   TOUKNEY. 

walls  of  Toledo,  where  stages  and  galleries  were  erected  for  the 
spectators,  covered  with  rich  tapestry,  and  sheltered  from  the 
sun  by  silken  awnings.  All  the  beauties  of  the  land  were  assem 
blod  in  those  galleries,  while  below  pranced  plumed  knights  with 
their  pages  and  esquires,  among  whom  figured  conspicuously  the 
princes  who  were  to  contend  in  the  tourney.  All  the  beauties  of 
the  land,  however,  were  eclipsed  when .  the  princess  Aldegonda 
appeared  in  the  royal  pavilion,  and  for  the  first  time  broke  forth 
upon  the  gaze  of  an  admiring  world.  A  murmur  of  wonder  ran 
through  the  crowd  at  her  transcendent  loveliness ;  and  the 
princes  who  were  candidates  for  her  hand,  merely  on  the  faith  of 
her  reported  charms,  now  felt  tenfold  ardor  for  the  conflict. 

The  princess,  however,  had  a  troubled  look.  The  color  came 
and  went  from  her  cheek,  and  her  eye  wandered  with  a  restless 
and  unsatisfied  expression  over  the  plumed  throng  of  knights. 
The  trumpets  were  about  sounding  for  the  encounter,  when  the 
herald  announced  the  arrival  of  a  strange  knight ;  and  Ahmed 
rode  into  the  field.  A  steel  helmet  studded  with  gems  rose 
above  his  turban  ;  his  cuirass  was  embossed  with  gold ;  his  cime- 
ter  and  dagger  were  of  the  workmanship  of  Fez,  and  flamed  with 
precious  stones.  A  round  shield  was  at  his  shoulder,  and  in  his 
hand  he  bore  the  lance  of  charmed  virtue.  The  caparison  of  his 
Arabian  steed  was  richly  embroidered  and  swept  the  ground,  and 
the  proud  animal  pranced  and  snuffed  the  air,  and  neighed  with 
joy  at  once  more  beholding  the  array  of  arms.  The  lofty  and 
graceful  demeanor  of  the  prince  struck  every  eye,  and  when  his 
appellation  was  announced,  "  The  Pilgrim  of  Love,"  a  universal 
flutter  and  agitation  prevailed  among  the  fair  dames  in  the 
galleries. 

When  Ahmed  presented  himself  at  the  lists,  however,  they 


ENCHANTED   AEMOK. 


229 


were  closed  against  him :  none  but  princes,  he  was  told,  were  ad- 
mitted to  the  contest.  He  declared  his  name  and  rank.  Still 
worse  j — he  was  a  Moslem,  and  could  not  engage  in  a  tourney 
where  the  hand  of  a  Christian  princess  was  the  prize. 

The  rival  princes  surrounded  him  with  haughty  and  mena- 
cing aspects  ;  and  one  of  insolent  demeanor  and  herculean  frame 
sneered  at  his  light  and  youthful  form,  and  scoffed  at  his  amor- 
ous appellation.  The  ire  of  the  prince  was  roused.  He  defied 
his  rival  to  the  encounter.  They  took  distance,  wheeled,  and 
charged ;  and  at  the  first  touch  of  the  magic  lance,  the  brawny 
scoffer  was  tilted  from  his  saddle.  Here  the  prince  would  have 
paused,  but  alas !  he  had  to  deal  with  a  demoniac  horse  and 
armor ;  once  in  action  nothing  could  control  them.  The  Ara- 
bian steed  charged  into  the  thickest  of  the  throng;  the  lance 
overturned  every  thing  that  presented ;  the  gentle  prince  was 
carried  pell-mell  about  the  field,  strewing  it  with  high  and  low. 
gentle  and  simple,  and  grieving  at  his  own  involuntary  exploits 
The  king  stormed  and  raged  at  this  outrage  on  his  subjects  and 
his  guests.  He  ordered  out  all  his  guards — they  were  unhorsed 
as  fast  as  they  came  up.  The  king  threw  off  his  robes,  grasped 
buckler  and  lance,  and  rode  forth  to  awe  the  stranger  with  the 
presence  of  majesty  itself.  Alas  !  majesty  fared  no  better  than 
the  vulgar  ;  the  steed  and  lance  were  no  respecters  of  persons  ; 
to  the  dismay  of  Ahmed,  he  was  borne  full  tilt  against  the  king, 
and  in  a  moment  the  royal  heels  were  in  the  air,  and  the  crown 
was  rolling  in  the  dust. 

At  this  moment  the  sun  reached  the  meridian ;  the  magic 

ppell  resumed  its  power ;  the  Arabian  steed  scoured  across  the 

plain,  leaped  the  barrier,  plunged  into  the  Tagus,  swam  its  raging 

current,  bore  the  prince  breathless  and  amazed  to  the  cavern,  and 

10* 


230  THE  KEPOKT  OF  THE  PAEKOT.  . 

resumed  his  station,  like  a  statue,  beside  the  iron  table.  The 
prince  dismounted  right  gladly,  and  replaced  the  armor,  to 
abide  the  further  decrees  of  fate.  Then  seating  himself  in  the 
cavern,  he  ruminated  on  the  desperate  state  to  which  this  dc- 
noniac  steed  and  armor  had  reduced  him.  Never  should  he 
dare  to  show  his  face  at  Toledo  after  inflicting  such  disgrace 
upon  its  chivalry,  and  such  an  outrage  on  its  king.  What  too 
would  the  princess  think  of  so  rude  and  riotous  an  achievement  ? 
Full  of  anxiety,  he  sent  forth  his  winged  messengers  to  gather 
tidings.  The  parrot  resorted  to  all  the  public  places  and  crowded 
resorts  of  the  city,  and  soon  returned  with  a  world  of  gossip. 
All  Toledo  was  in  consternation.  The  princess  had  been  borno 
off  senseless  to  the  palace ;  the  tournament  had  ended  in  confu 
sion ;  every  one  was  talking  of  the  sudden  apparition,  prodigious 
exploits,  and  strange  disappearance  of  the  Moslem  knight.  Some 
pronounced  him  a  Moorish  magician;  others  thought  him  a  de- 
mon who  had  assumed  a  human  shape,  while  others  related  tra- 
ditions of  enchanted  warriors  hidden  in  the  caves  of  the  moun- 
tains, and  thought  it  might  be  one  of  these,  who  had  made  a 
sudden  irruption  from  his  den.  All  agreed  that  no  mere  ordi- 
nary mortal  could  have  wrought  such  wonders,  or  unhorsed  such 
accomplished  and  stalwart  Christian  warriors. 

The  owl  flew  forth  at  night  and  hovered  about  the  dusky  city, 
perching  on  the  roofs  and  chimneys.  He  then  wheeled  his  flight 
up  to  the  royal  palace,  which  stood  on  a  rocky  summit  of  Toledo, 
and  went  prowling  about  its  terraces  and  battlements,  eaves- 
dropping at  every  cranny,  and  glaring  in  with  his  big  goggling 
eyes  at  every  window  where  there  was  a  light,  so  as  to  throw 
two  or  three  maids  of  honor  into  fits.  It  was  not  until  the  gray 
dawn  began  to  peer  above  the  mountains  that  he  returned  from 


THE  EEPOET  OF  THE   OWL.  231 

his  mousing  expedition,  and  related  to  the  prince  what  he  had 
seen. 

"  As  I  was  prying  about  one  of  the  loftiest  towers  of  the 
palace,"  said  he,  "I  beheld  through  a  casement  a  beautiful 
princess.  She  was  reclining  on  a  couch  with  attendants  and  phy- 
sicians around  her,  but  she  would  none  of  their  ministry  and 
relief.  When  they  retired  I  beheld  her  draw  forth  a  letter  from 
her  bosom,  and  read  and  kiss  it,  and  give  way  to  loud  lamenta- 
tions ;  at  which,  philosopher  as  I  am,  I  could  but  be  greatly 
moved." 

The  tender  heart  of  Ahmed  was  distressed  at  these  tidings. 
"  Too  true  were  thy  words,  0  sage  Eben  Bonabben."  cried  he  ; 
"  care  and  sorrow  and  sleepless  nights  are  the  lot  of  lovers.  Al- 
lah preserve  the  princess  from  the  blighting  influence  of  this 
thing  called  love !" 

Further  intelligence  from  Toledo  corroborated  the  report  of 
the  owl.  The  city  was  a  prey  to  uneasiness  and  alarm.  The 
princess  was  conveyed  to  the  highest  tower  of  the  palace,  every 
avenue  to  which  was  strongly  guarded.  In  the  mean  time  a 
devouring  melancholy  had  seized  upon  her,  of  which  no  one  could 
divine  the  cause — she  refused  food  and  turned  a  deaf  ear  to  every 
consolation.  The  most  skilful  physicians  had  essayed  their  art 
in  vain ;  it  was  thought  some  magic  spell  had  been  practised  upon 
her,  and  the  king  made  proclamation,  declaring  that  whoever 
should  effect  her  cure  should  receive  the  richest  jewel  in  the  royal 
treasury. 

When  the  owl,  who  was  dozing  in  a  corner,  heard  of  this  pro- 
clamation, he  rolled  his  large  eyes  and  looked  more  mysterious 
than  ever. 

"Allah  Akbar !"  exclaimed  he,  "  happy  the  man  that  shall 


232  THE   CAKPET   OF    SOLOMON. 

effect  that  cure,  should  he  but  know  what  to  choose  from  the 
royal  treasury." 

"  What  mean  you,  most  reverend  owl?"  said  Ahmed. 

"  Hearken,  0  prince,  to  what  I  shall  relate.  We  owls,  you 
must  know,  are  a  learned  body,  and  much  given  to  dark  and 
dusty  research.  During  my  late  prowling  at  night  about  the 
domes  and  turrets  of  Toledo,  I  disovered  a  college  of  antiquarian 
owls,  who  hold  their  meetings  in  a  great  vaulted  tower  where  the 
royal  treasury  is  deposited.  Here  they  were  discussing  the  forms 
and  inscriptions  and  designs  of  ancient  gems  and  jewels,  and 
of  golden  and  silver  vessels,  heaped  up  in  the  treasury,  the 
fashion  of  every  country  and  age  ;  but  mostly  they  were  in- 
terested about  certain  relics  and  talismans  that  have  remained 
in  the  treasury  since  the  time  of  Roderick  the  Goth.  Among 
these  was  a  box  of  sandal-wood  secured  by  bands  of  steel  of  Ori- 
ental workmanship,  and  inscribed  with  mystic  characters  known 
only  to  the  learned  few.  This  box  and  its  inscription  had  occu- 
pied the  college  for  several  sessions,  and  had  caused  much  long 
and  grave  dispute.  At  the  time  of  my  visit  a  very  ancient  owl, 
who  had  recently  arrived  from  Egypt,  was  seated  on  the  lid  of 
the  box  lecturing  upon  the  inscription,  and  he  proved  from  it  that 
the  coffer  contained  the  silken  carpet  of  the  throne  of  Solomon 
the  wise ;  which  doubtless  had  been  brought  to  Toledo  by  the 
Jews  who  took  refuge  there  after  the  downfall  of  Jerusalem." 

When  the  owl  had  concluded  his  antiquarian  harangue  the 
prince  remained  for  a  time  absorbed  in  thought.  "  I  have  heard," 
said  he,  "  from  the  sage  Eben  Bonabben.  of  the  wonderful  pro- 
perties of  that  talisman,  which  disappeared  at  the  fall  of  Jerusa- 
lem, and  was  supposed  to  be  lost  to  mankind.  Doubtless  it  re- 
mains a  sealed  mystery  to  the  Christians  of  Toledo  If  I  can  get 
possession  of  that  carpet,  my  fortune  is  secure. ' 


A  COUNTER   CHAKM.  233 

The  next  day  the  prince  laid  aside  his  rich  attire,  and  arrayed 
himself  in  the  simple  garb  of  an  Arab  of  the  desert.  He  dyed 
his  complexion  to  a  tawny  hue.  and  no  one  could  have  recognized 
in  him  the  splendid  warrior  who  had  caused  such  admiration  and 
dismay  at  the  tournament.  "With  staff  in  hand,  and  scrip  by  his 
ide,  and  a  small  pastoral  reed,  he  repaired  to  Toledo,  and  present- 
ing himself  at  the  gate  of  the  royal  palace,  announced  himself  as 
a  candidate  for  the  reward  offered  for  the  cure  of  the  princess. 
The  guards  would  have  driven  him  away  with  blows.  ':  What 
can  a  vagrant  Arab  like  thyself  pretend  to  do,"  said  they,  "  in  a 
case  where  the  most  learned  of  the  land  have  failed  ?"  The  king, 
however,  overheard  the  tumult,  and  ordered  the  Arab  to  be 
brought  into  his  presence. 

"  Most  potent  king,"  said  Ahmed,  "  you  behold  before  you  a 
Bedouin  Arab,  the  greater  part  of  whose  life  has  been  passed  in 
the  solitudes  of  the  desert.  These  solitudes,  it  is  well  known, 
are  the  haunts  of  demons  and  evil  spirits,  who  beset  us  poor  shep- 
herds in  our  lonely  watchings,  enter  into  and  possess  our  flocks 
and  herds,  and  sometimes  render  even  the  patient  camel  furious ; 
against  these  our  counter-charm  is  music  ;  and  we  have  legendary 
airs  handed  down  from  generation  to  generation,  that  we  chant 
and  pipe,  to  cast  forth  these  evil  spirits.  I  am  of  a  gifted  line, 
and  possess  this  power  in  its  fullest  force.  If  it  be  any  evil  in- 
fluence of  the  kind  that  holds  a  spell  over  thy  daughter,  I  pledge 
my  head  to  free  her  from  its  sway." 

The  king,  who  was  a  man  of  understanding  and  knew  the 
wonderful  secrets  possessed  by  the  Arabs,  was  inspired  with  hope 
by  the  confident  language  of  the  prince.  He  conducted  him  im- 
mediately to  the  lofty  tower,  secured  by  several  doors,  in  the 
summit  of  which  was  the  chamber  of  the  princess.  The  windows 


234:  THE   POWEK    OF  MUSIC. 

opened  upon  a  terrace  with  balustrades,  commanding  a  view  over 
Toledo  and  all  the  surrounding  country.  The  windows  were 
darkened,  for  the  princess  lay  within,  a  prey  to  a  devouring  grief 
that  refused  all  alleviation. 

The  prince  seated  himself  on  the  terrace,  and  performed 
several  wild  Arabian  airs  on  his  pastoral  pipe,  which  he  had 
learnt  from  his  attendants  in  the  Generalife  at  Granada.  The 
princess  continued  insensible,  and  the  doctors  who  were  present 
shook  their  heads,  and  smiled  with  incredulity  and  contempt :  at 
length  the  prince  laid  aside  the  reed,  and,  to  a  simple  melody, 
chanted  the  amatory  verses  of  the  letter  which  had  declared  his 
passion. 

The  princess  recognized  the  strain — a  fluttering  joy  stole  to 
her  heart ;  she  raised  her  head  and  listened ;  tears  rushed  to  her 
eyes  and  streamed  down  her  cheeks ;  her  bosom  rose  and  fell  with 
a  tumult  of  emotions.  She  would  have  asked  for  the  minstrel  to 
be  brought  into  her  presence,  but  maiden  coyness  held  her  silent. 
The  king  read  her  wishes,  and  at  his  command  Ahmed  was  con- 
ducted into  the  chamber.  The  lovers  were  discreet :  they  but 
exchanged  glances,  yet  those  glances  spoke  volumes.  Never  was 
triumph  of  music  more  complete.  The  rose  had  returned  to  the 
soft  cheek  of  the  princess,  the  freshness  to  her  lip,  and  the  dewy 
light  to  her  languishing  eyes. 

All  the  physicians  present  stared  at  each  other  with  astonish- 
ment. The  king  regarded  the  Arab  minstrel  with  admiration 
mixed  with  awe.  "  Wonderful  youth  !"  exclaimed  he,  "  thou  shalt 
henceforth  be  the  first  physician  of  my  court,  and  no  other  pre- 
scription will  I  take  but  thy  melody.  For  the  present  receive 
thy  reward,  the  most  precious  jewel  in  my  treasury." 

"  0  king,"  replied  Ahmed,  "  I  care  not  for  silver  or  gold  or 


THE  CARPET   OF   SOLOMON.  235 

precious  stones.  One  relic  hast  thou  in  thy  treasury,  handed 
down  from  the  Moslems  who  once  owned  Toledo — a  box  of  sandal- 
wood  containing  a  silken  carpet :  give  me  that  box,  and  I  am 
content." 

All  present  were  surprised  at  the  moderation  of  the  Arab, 
and  still  more  when  the  box  of  sandal-wood  was  brought  and  the 
carpet  drawn  forth.  It  was  of  fine  green  silk,  covered  with  He- 
brew and  Chaldaic  characters.  The  court  physicians  looked 
at  each  other,  shrugged  their  shoulders,  and  smiled  at  the  sim  • 
plicity  of  this  new  practitioner,  who  could  be  content  with  so  pal- 
try a  fee. 

"  This  carpet,"  said  the  prince,  "  once  covered  the  throne  of 
Solomon  the  wise ;  it  is  worthy  of  being  placed  beneath  the  feet 
of  beauty." 

So  saying,  he  spread  it  on  the  terrace  beneath  an  ottoman 
that  had  been  brought  forth  for  the  princess ;  then  seating  him- 
self at  her  feet — 

"  Who,"  said  he,  "  shall  counteract  what  is  written  in  the 
book  of  fate  ?  Behold  the  prediction  of  the  astrologers  verified. 
Know,  0  king,  that  your  daughter  and  I  have  long  loved  each 
other  in  secret.  Behold  in  me  the  Pilgrim  of  Love  !" 

These  words  were  scarcely  from  his  lips,  when  the  carpet  rose 
in  the  air,  bearing  off  the  prince  and  princess.  The  king  and  the 
physicians  gazed  after  it  with  open  mouths  and  straining  eyes 
until  it  became  a  little  speck  on  the  white  bosom  of  a  cloud,  and 
then  disappeared  in  the  blue  vault  of  heaven. 

The  king  in  a  rage  summoned  his  treasurer.  "  How  is  this,'* 
said  he,  "  that  thou  hast  suffered  an  infidel  to  get  possession  of 
such  a  talisman  ?" 

"  Alas  sir,  we  knew  not  its  nature,  nor  could  we  decipher  the 


236  THE   COTJKT   OF  AHMED. 

inscription  of  the  box.  If  it  be  indeed  the  carpet  of  the  throne 
of  the  wise  Solomon,  it  is  possessed  of  magic  power,  and  can 
transport  its  owner  from  place  to  place  through  the  air." 

The  king  assembled  a  mighty  army,  and  set  off  for  Granada 
in  pursuit  of  the  fugitives.  His  march  was  long  and  toilsome. 
Encamping  in*  the  Vega,  he  sent  a  herald  to  demand  restitution 
of  his  daughter.  The  king  himself  came  forth  with  all  his  court 
to  meet  him.  In  the  king  he  beheld  the  real  minstrel,  for  Ah- 
med had  succeeded  to  the  throne  on  the  death  of  his  father,  and 
the  beautiful  Aldegonda  was  his  suftana. 

The  Christian  king  was  easily  pacified  when  he  found  that 
his  daughter  was  suffered  to  continue  in  her  faith ;  not  that  he 
was  particularly  pious ;  but  religion  is  always  a  point  of  pride 
and  etiquette  with  princes.  Instead  of  bloody  battles,  there  was 
a  succession  of  feasts  and  rejoicings,  after  which  the  king  returned 
well  pleased  to  Toledo,  and  the  youthful  couple  continued  to  reign 
as  happily  as  wisely,  in  the  Alhambra. 

It  is  proper  to  add,  that  the  owl  and  the  parrot  had  severally 
followed  the  prince  by  easy  stages  to  Granada ;  the  former  travel- 
ling by  night,  and  stopping  at  the  various  hereditary  possessions 
of  his  family ;  the  latter  figuring  in  gay  circles  of  every  town  and 
city  on  his  route. 

Ahmed  gratefully  requited  the  services  which  they  had  ren- 
dered on  his  pilgrimage.  He  appointed  the  owl  his  prime  min- 
ister, the  parrot  his  master  of  ceremonies.  It  is  needless  to  say 
that  never  was  a  realm  more  sagely  administered,  nor  a  court  con- 
ducted with  more  exact  punctilio. 


A  RAMBLE  AMONG  THE  HILLS. 

I  USED  frcqcntly  to  amuse  myself  towards  the  close  of  the  day, 
when  the  heat  had  subsided,  with  taking  long  rambles  about  the 
neighboring  hills  and  the  deep  umbrageous  valleys,  accompanied 
by  my  historiographic  squire,  Mateo,  to  whose  passion  for  gos- 
siping I  on  such  occasions  gave  the  most  unbounded  license ;  and 
there  was  scarce  a  rock,  or  ruin,  or  broken  fountain,  or  lonely 
glen,  about  which  he  had  not  some  marvellous  story  ;  or,  above 
all,  some  golden  legend  ;  for  never  was  poor  devil  so  munificent 
in  dispensing  hidden  treasures. 

In  the  course  of  one  of  these  strolls  Mateo  was  more  than 
usually  communicative.  Ili  was  toward  sunset  that  we  sallied 
forth  from  the  great  Gate  of  Justice,  and  ascended  an  alley  of 
trees  until  we  came  to  a  clump  of  figs  and  pomegranates  at 
the  foot  of  the  Tower  of  the  Seven  Floors  (de  los  siete  suelos), 
the  identical  tower  whence  Boabdil  is  said  to  have  issued,  when 
he  surrendered  his  capital.  Here,  pointing  to  a  low  archway  in 
the  foundation,  Mateo  informed  me  of  a  monstrous  sprite  or  hob- 
goblin, said  to  infest  this  tower,  ever  since  the  time  of  the  Moors, 
and  to  guard  the  treasures  of  a  Moslem  king.  Sometimes  it  issues 
forth  in  the  dead  of  the  night,  and  scours  the  avenues  of  the  Al- 
hambra,  and  the  streets  of  Granada,  in  the  shape  of  a  headless 
horse,  pursued  by  six  dogs  with  terrible  yells  and  howlings. 


238  THE  BELLUDO. 

"  But  have  you  ever  met  with  it  yourself,  Mateo,  in  any  of 
your  rambles  ?"  demanded  I. 

"  No,  Senor,  God  be  thanked !  but  my  grandfather,  the  tailor, 
knew  several  persons  that  had  seen  it,  for  it  went  about  much 
oftener  in  his  time  than  at  present ;  sometimes  in  one  shape, 
sometimes  in  another.  Every  body  in  Granada  has  heard  of  the 
Belludo,  for  the  old  women  and  the  nurses  frighten  the  children 
with  it  when  they  cry.  Some  say  it  is  the  spirit  of  a  cruel  Moor- 
ish king,  who  killed  his  six  sons  and  buried  them  in  these  vaults 
and  that  they  hunt  him  at  nights  in  revenge.'5 

I  forbear  to  dwell  upon  the  marvellous  details  given  by  the 
simple-minded  Mateo  about  this  redoubtable  phantom,  which  has, 
in  fact,  been  time  out  of  mind  a  favorite  theme  of  nursery  tales 
and  popular  tradition  in  Granada,  and  of  which  honorable  men- 
tion is  made  by  an  ancient  and  learned  historian  and  topographer 
of  the  place. 

Leaving  this  eventful  pile,  we  continued  Our  course,  skirting 
the  fruitful  orchards  of  the  Generalife.  in  which  two  or  three 
nightingales  were  pouring  forth  a  rich  strain  of  melody.  Behind 
these  orchards  we  passed  a  number  of  Moorish  tanks,  with  a  door 
cut  into  the  rocky  bosom  of  the  hill,  but  closed  up.  These  tanks, 
Mateo  informed  me,  were  favorite  bathing-places  of  himself  and 
his  comrades  in  boyhood,  until  frightened  away  by  a  story  of  a 
hideous  Moor,  who  used  to  issue  forth  from  the  door  in  the  rock 
to  entrap  unwary  bathers. 

Leaving  these  haunted  tanks  behind  us,  we  pursued  our  ram- 
ble up  a  solitary  mule-path  winding  among  the  hills,  and  soon 
found  ourselves  amidst  wild  and  melancholy  mountains,  destitute 
of  trees,  and  here  and  there  tinted  with  scanty  verdure.  Every 
Uring  within  sight  was  severe  and  sterile,  and  it  was  scarcely 


THE  KAVINE  OF  THE  JAK.  239 

possible  to  realize  the  idea  that  but  a  short  distance  behind  us 
was  the  Generalife,  with  its  blooming  orchards  and  terraced  gar- 
dens, and  that  we  were  in  the  vicinity  of  delicious  Granada,  that^ 
city  of  groves  and  fountains.  But  such  is  the  nature  of  Spain  ; 
wild  and  stern  the  moment  it  escapes  from  cultivation;  tho 
desert  and  the  garden  are  ever  side  by  side. 

The  narrow  defile  up  which  we  were  passing  is  called,  accord- 
ing to  Mateo,  el  Barranco  de  la  tinaja,  or  the  ravine  of  the  jar, 
because  a  jar  full  of  Moorish  gold  was  found  here  in  old  times. 
The  brain  of  poor  Mateo  was  continually  running  upon  these 
golden  legends. 

"  But  what  is  the  meaning  of  the  cross  I  see  yonder  upon  a 
neap  of  stones,  in  that  narrow  part  of  the  ravine?" 

"  Oh,  that's  nothing — a  muleteer  was  murdered  there  some 
years  since." 

"  So  then,  Mateo,  you  have  robbers  and  murderers  even  at  the 
gates  of  the  Alhambra  ?" 

"  Not  at  present,  Seiior ;  that  was  formerly,  when  there  used 
to  be  many  loose  fellows  about  the  fortress  ;  but  they've  all  been 
weeded  out.  Nt)t  but  that  the  gipsies  who  live  in  caves  in  the 
hill-sides,  just  out  of  the  fortress,  are  many  of  them  fit  for  any 
thing ;  but  we  have  had  no  murder  about  here  for  a  long  time  past. 
1'he  man  who  murdered  the  muleteer  was  hanged  in  the  fortress." 

Our  path  continued  up  the  barranco,  with  a  bold,  rugged 
height  to  our  left,  called  the  "  Silla  del  Moro,"  or,  Chair  of  the 
Moor,  from  the  tradition  already  alluded  to,  that  the  unfortunate 
Boabdil  fled  thither  during  a  popular  insurrection,  and  remained 
all  day  seated  on  the  rocky  summit,  looking  mournfully  down  on 
his  factious  city. 

We  at  length  arrived  on  the  highest  part' of  the  promontory 


240  THE   HOUR    OF  "OVATION. 

above  Granada,  called  the  mountain  of  the  sun.  The  evening 
was  approaching ;  the  setting  sun  just  gilded  the  loftiest  heights. 
Here  and  there  a  solitary  shepherd  might  be  descried  driving 
his  flock  down  the  declivities,  to  be  folded  for  the  night ;  or  a 
muleteer  and  his  lagging  animals,  threading  some  mountain  path 
to  arrive  at  the  city  gates  before  nightfall. 

Presently  the  deep  tones  of  the  cathedral  bell  came  swelling 
up  the  denies,  proclaiming  the  hour  of  "  oration "  or  prayer. 
The  note  was  responded  to  from  the  belfry  of  every  church,  and 
from  the  sweet  bells  of  the  convents  among  the  mountains.  The 
shepherd  paused  on  the  fold  of  the  hill,  the  muleteer  in  the  midst 
of  the  road,  each  took  off  his  hat  and  remained  motionless  for  a 
time,  murmuring  his  evening  prayer.  There  is  always  something 
pleasingly  solemn  in  this  custom,  by  which,  at  a  melodious  sig- 
nal, every  human  being  throughout  the  land  unites  at  the  same 
moment  in  a  tribute  of  thanks  to  God  for  the  mercies  of  the  day. 
It  spreads  a  transient  sanctity  over  the  land,  and  the  sight  of  the 
sun  sinking  in  all  his  glory,  adds  not  a  little  to  the  solemnity  01 
the  scene. 

In  the  present  instance  the  effect  was  heightened  by  the  wild 
and  lonely  nature  of  the  place.  We  were  on  the  naked  and  bro- 
ken summit  of  the  haunted  mountain  of  the  sun,  where  ruined 
tanks  and  cisterns,  and  the  mouldering  foundations  of  extensive 
buildings,  spoke  of  former  populousness,  but  where  all  was  now 
silent  and  desolate. 

As  we  were  wandering  about  among  these  traces  of  old  times, 
we  came  to  a  circular  pit,  penetrating  deep  into  the  bosom  of  the 
mountain  ;  which  Mateo  pointed  out  as  one  of  the  wonders  and 
mysteries  of  the  place.  I  supposed  it  to  be  a  well  dug  by  the 
indefatigable  Moors,  to  obtain  their  favorite  element  in  its  great- 


THE   IRON   POT.  241 

est  purity.  Mateo,  however,  had  a  different  story,  and  one  much 
more  to  his  humor.  According  to  a  tradition,  in  which  his  father 
and  grandfather  firmly  believed,  this  was  an  entrance  to  the  sub- 
terranean caverns  of  the  mountain,  in  which  Boabdil  and  his 
court  lay  bound  in  magic  spell;  and  whence  they  sallied  forth 
at  night,  at  allotted  times,  to  revisit  their  ancient  abodes. 

''  Ah,  Serior,  this  mountain  is  full  of  wonders  of  the  kind.  In 
another  place  there  was  a  hole  somewhat  like  this,  and  just  within 
it  hung  an  iron  pot  by  a  chain  ;  nobody  knew  what  was  in  that 
pot,  for  it  was  always  covered  up ;  but  every  body  supposed  it 
full  of  Moorish  gold.  Many  tried  to  draw  it  forth,  for  it  seemed 
just  within  reach  ;  but  the  moment  it  was  touched  it  would  sink 
far,  far  down,  and  not  come  up  again  for  some  time.  At  last  one 
who  thought  it  must  be  enchanted  touched  it  with  the  cross,  by 
way  of  breaking  the  charm ;  and  faith  he  did  break  it,  for  the 
pot  sank  out  of  sight  and  never  was  seen  any  more." 

"  All  this  is  fact,  Senor ;  for  my  grandfather  was  an  eye-witness." 

"  What!  Mateo  ;  did  he  see  the  pot  ?" 

"  No,  Senor,  but  he  saw  the  hole  where  the  pot  had  hung.'* 

"  It's  the  same  thing,  Mateo." 

The  deepening  twilight,  which,  in  this  climate,  is  of  short 
duration,  admonished  us  tc  leave  this  haunted  ground.  As  we 
descended  the  mountain  defile,  there  was  no  longer  herdsman  nor 
muleteer  to  be  seen,  nor  any  thing  to  be  heard  but  our  own 
footsteps  and  the  lonely  chirping  of  the  cricket.  The  shadows 
of  the  valley  grew  deeper  and  deeper,  until  all  was  dark  around 
us.  The  lofty  summit  of  the  Sierra  Nevada  alone  retained  a 
lingering  gleam  of  daylight ;  its  snowy  peaks  glaring  against  the 
dark  blue  firmament,  and  seeming  close  to  us,  from  the  extrcmo 
purity  of  the  atmosphere. 
11 


242  LIGHTS   ON  THE  MOUNTAIN. 

"  How  near  the  Sierra  looks  this  evening  !"  said  Mateo ;  "  it 
seems  as  if  you  could  touch  it  with  your  hand ;  and  yet  it  is  many 
long  leagues  off."  While  he  was  speaking,  a  star  appeared  over 
the  snowy  summit  of  the  mountain,  the  only  one  yet  visible  in  tho 
heavens,  and  so  pure,  so  large,  so  bright  and  beautiful,  as  to  call 
forth  ejaculations  of  delight  from  honest  Mateo. 

"  Que  estrella  hermosa !  que  clara  y  limpia  es  ! — No  pueda 
ser  estrella  mas  brillante  !" 

(What  a  beautiful  star  !  how  clear  and  lucid — a  star  could  not 
be  more  brilliant !) 

I  have  often  remarked  this  sensibility  of  the  common  people 
of  Spain  to  the  charms  of  natural  objects.  The  lustre  of  a  star, 
the  beauty  or  fragrance  of  a  flower,  the  crystal  purity  of  a  foun- 
tain, will  inspire  them  with  a  kind  of  poetical  delight ;  and  then, 
what  euphonious  words  their  magnificent  language  affords,  with 
which  to  give  utterance  to  their  transports  ! 

"But  what  lights  are  those,  Mateo,  which  I  see  twinkling 
along  the  Sierra  Nevada,  just  below  the  snowy  region,  and  which 
might  be  taken  for  stars,  only  that  they  are  ruddy,  and  against 
the  dark  side  of  the  mountain  ?" 

"  Those,  Senor,  are  fires,  made  by  the  men  who  gather  snow 
and  ice  for  the  supply  of  Granada.  They  go  up  every  afternoon 
with  mules  and  asses,  and  take  turns,  some  to  rest  and  warm 
themselves  by  the  fires,  while  others  fill  the  panniers  with  ice. 
They  then  set  off  down  the  mountains,  so  as  to  reach  the  gates  of 
Granada  before  sunrise.  That  Sierra  Nevada,  Senor,  is  a  lump 
of  ice  in  the  middle  of  Andalusia,  to  keep  it  all  cool  in  summer." 

It  was  now  completely  dark ;  we  were  passing  through  the 
barranco,  where  stood  the  cross  of  the  murdered  muleteer  ;  when 
T  beheld  a  number  of  lights  moving  at  a  distance,  and  apparently 


FIGURES   BY   MOONLIGHT.  243 

advancing  up  the  ravine.  On  nearer  approach,  they  proved  to 
be  torches  borne  by  a  train  of  uncouth  figures  arrayed  in  black  : 
it  would  have  been  a  procession  dreary  enough  at  any  time,  but 
was  peculiarly  so  in  this  wild  and  solitary  place. 

Mateo  drew  near,  and  told  me,  in  a  low  voice,  that  it  was  a 
funeral  train  bearing  a  corpse  to  the  burying-ground  among  the 
hills. 

As  the  procession  passed  by,  the  lugubrious  light  of  the 
torches,  falling  on  the  rugged  features  and  funeral-weeds  of  the 
attendants,  had  the  most  fantastic  effect,  but  was  perfectly 
ghastly,  as  it  revealed  the  countenance  of  the  corpse,  which, 
according  to  tne  Spanish  custom,  was  borne  uncovered  on  an  open 
bier.  I  remained  for  some  time  gazing  after  the  dreary  train  as 
it  wound  up  the  dark  defile  of  the  mountain.  It  put  me  in  mind 
of  the  old  story  of  a  procession  of  demons  bearing  the  body  of  a 
sinner  up  the  crater  of  Stromboli. 

"  Ah !  Senor,"  cried  Mateo,  "  I  could  tell  you  a  story  of  a 
procession  once  seen  among  these  mountains,  but  then  you'd 
laugh  at  me,  and  say  it  was  one  of  the  legacies  of  my  grandfather 
the  tailor." 

"  By  no  means,  Mateo.  There  is  nothing  I  relish  more  than 
a  marvellous  tale." 

"  Well,  Senor,  it  is  about  one  of  those  very  men  we  have  been 
talking  of,'  who  gather  snow  on  the  Sierra  Nevada. 

"  You  must  know,  that  a  great  many  years  since,  in  my  grand- 
father's time,  there  was  an  old  fellow,  Tio  Nicolo  (Uncle  Nicho- 
las) by  name,  who  had  filled  the  panniers  of  his  mule  with  snow 
and  ice,  and  was  returning  down  the  mountain.  Being  very 
drowsy,  he  mounted  upon  the  mule,  and  soon  falling  asleep,  went 
with  his  head  nodding  and  bobbing  about  from  side  to  side,  while 


244  THE   PHANTOM   ARMY. 

his  surefooted  old  mule  stepped  along  the  edge  of  precipices,  and 
down  steep  and  broken  barrancos,  just  as  safe  and  steady  as  if  it 
had  been  on  plain  ground.  At  length,  Tio  Nicolo  awoke,  and 
gazed  about  him,  and  rubbed  his  eyes — ands  in  good  truth,  he  had 
reason.  The  moon  shone  almost  as  bright  as  day,  and  he  saw  the 
<.'ity  below  him,  as  plain  as  your  hand,  and  shining  with  its  white 
buildings,  like  a  silver  platter  in  the  moonshine ;  but,  Lord ! 
Senor,  it  was  nothing  like  the  city  he  had  left  a  few  hours  before  ! 
Instead  of  the  cathedral,  with  its  great  dome  and  turrets,  and  the 
churches  with  their  spires,  and  the  convents  with  their  pinnacles, 
all  surmounted  with  the  blessed  cross,  he  saw  nothing  but  Moor- 
ish mosques,  and  minarets,  and  cupolas,  all  topped  off  with  glitter- 
ing crescents,  such  as  you  see  on  the  Barbary  flags.  "Well,  Senor, 
as  you  may  suppose,  Tio  Nicolo  was  mightily  puzzled  at  all  this, 
but  while  he  was  gazing  down  upon  the  city,  a  great  army  came 
marching  up  the  mountains,  winding  along  the  ravines,  sometimes 
in  the  moonshine,  sometimes  in  the  shade.  As  it  drew  nigh,  he 
«aw  that  there  were  horse  and  foot  all  in  Moorish  armor.  Tio 
Nicolo  tried  to  scramble  out  of  their  way,  but  his  old  mule  stood 
stock  still,  and  refused  to  budge,  trembling,  at  the  same  time,  like 
a  leaf — for  dumb  beasts,  Senor,  are  just  as  much  frightened  at 
such  things  as  human  beings.  Well,  Senor,  the  hobgoblin  army 
came  marching  by ;  there  were  men  that  seemed  to  blow  trum- 
pets, and  others  to  beat  tlrums  and  strike  cymbals,  yet  never  a 
sound  did  they  mate ;  they  all  moved  on  without  the  least  noise, 
iust  as  I  have  seen  painted  armies  move  across  the  stage  in  the 
theatre  of  Granada,  and  all  looked  as  pale  as  death.  At  last,  in 
the  rear  of  the  army,  between  two  black  Moorish  horsemen,  rodo 
the  Grand  Inquisitor  of  Granada,  on  a  mule  as  white  as  snow. 
Tio  Nicolo  wondered  to  see  him  in  such  company,  for  the  Inquis- 


THE   PHANTOM   AEMY.  245 

itor  was  famous  for  his  hatred  of  Moors,  and  indeed,  of  all  kinds 
of  Infidels,  Jews,  and  Heretics,  and  used  to  hunt  them  out  with 
fire  and  scourge.  However,  Tio  Nicolo  felt  himself  safe,  now 
that  there  was  a  priest  of  such  sanctity  at  hand.  So  making  the 
sign  of  the  cross,  he  called  out  for  his  benediction,  when,  hombrc  I 
he  received  a  blow  that  sent  him  and  his  old  mule  over  the  edge 
of  a  steep  bank,  down  which  they  rolled,  head  over  heels,  to  tho 
bottom  !  Tio  Nicolo  did  not  come  to  his  senses  until  long  after 
sunrise,  when  he  found  himself  at  the  bottom  of  a  deep  ravine, 
his  mule  grazing  beside  him,  and  his  panniers  of  snow  completely 
melted.  He  crawled  back  to  Granada  sorely  bruised  and  bat- 
tered, but  was  glad  to  find  the  city  looking  as  usual,  with  Chris- 
tian churches  and  crosses.  When  he  told  the  story  of  his  night'a 
adventure,  every  one  laughed  at  him ;  some  said  he  had  dreamed 
it  all.  as  he  dozed  on  his  mule ;  others  thought  it  all  a  fabrication 
of  his  own — but  what  was  strange,  Senor,  and  made  people  after 
wards  think  more  seriously  of  the  matter,  was,  that  the  Grand 
Inquisitor  died  within  the  year.  I  have  often  heard  my  grand- 
father, the  tailor,  say  that  there  was  more  meant  by  that  hobgob- 
lin army  bearing  off  the  resemblance  of  the  priest,  than  folks 
dared  to  surmise." 

.  "  Then  you  would  insinuate,  friend  Mateo,  that  there  is  a  kind 
of  Moorish  limbo,  or  purgatory,  in  the  bowels  of  these  mountains, 
to  which  the  padre  Inquisitor  was  borne  off." 

"  God  forbid,  Senor  !  I  know  nothing  of  the  matter.  I  only 
relate  what  I  heard  from  my  grandfather." 

By  the  time  Mateo  had  finished  the  tale  which  I  have  mere 
succinctly  related,  and  which  was  interlarded  with  many  com- 
ments, and  spun  out  with  minute  details,  we  reached  the  gate  of 
Uie  Alhambra. 


246 


THE   BELLTJDO. 


The  marvellous  stories  hinted  at  by  Mate),  in  the  early  part 
of  our  ramble  about  the  Tower  of  the  Seven  Floors,  set  me  as 
usual  upon  my  goblin  researches.  I  found  that  the  redoubtable 
phantom,  the  Belludo,  had  been  time  out  of  mind  a  favorite  theme 
of  nursery  tales  and  popular  traditions  in  Granada,  and  that  hon- 
orable mention  had  even  been  made  of  it  by  an  ancient  historian 
and  topographer  of  the  place.  The  scattered  members  of  one  of 
these  popular  traditions  I  have  gathered  together,  collated  them 
with  infinite  pains,  and  digested  them  into  the  following  legend ; 
which  only  wants  a  number  of  learned  notes  and  references  at 
bottom  to  take  its  rank  among  those  concrete  productions  gravely 
passed  upon  the  world  for  Historical  ITactg. 


LEGEND  OF  THE  MOOR'S  LEGACY. 

JUST  within  the  fortress  of  the  Alhambra,  in  front  of  the  royal 
palace,  is  a  broad  open  esplanade,  called  the  Place  or  Square  of 
the  Cisterns,  (la  Plaza  de  los  Algibes,)  so  called  from  being  un- 
dermined by  reservoirs  of  water,  hidden  from  sight,  and  which 
have  existed  from  the  time  of  the  Moors.  At  one  corner  of  this 
esplanade  is  a  Moorish  well,  cut  through  the  living  rock  to  a  great 
depth,  the  water  of  which  is  cold  as  ice  and  clear  as  crystal.  The 
wells  made  by  the  Moors  are  always  in  repute,  for  it  is  well  known 
what  pains  they  took  to  penetrate  to  the  purest  and  sweetest 
springs  and  fountains.  The  one  of  which  we  now  speak  is  famous 
throughout  Granada,  insomuch  that  water-carriers,  some  bear- 
ing great  water-jars  on  their  shoulders,  others  driving  asses  be- 
fore them  laden  with  earthen  vessels,  are  ascending  and  descend- 
ing the  steep  woody  avenues  of  the  Alhambra,  from  early  dawn 
until  a  late  hour  of  the  night. 

Fountains  and  wells,  ever  since  the  scriptural  days,  have  been 
noted  gossiping  places  in  hot  climates ;  and  at  the  well  in  ques- 
tion there  is  a  kind  of  perpetual  club  kept  up  during  the  livelong 
day,  by  the  invalids,  old  women,  and  other  curious  donothing 
folk  of  the  fortress,  who  sit  here  on  the  stone  benches,  under  au 
awning  spread  over  the  well  to  shelter  the  toll-gatherer  from  the 
HUH,  a7  a  dawdle  over  the  gossip  of  the  fortress,  and  questioi 


218  THE   WATER-CARKIEK. 

every  water-carrier  that  arrives  about  the  news  of  the  city,  and 
make  long  comments  on  every  thing  they  hear  and  see.  Not  an 
hour  of  the  day  but  loitering  housewives  and  idle  maid-servants 
may  be  seen,  lingering  with  pitcher  on  head  or  in  hand,  to  hear 
the  hist  of  the  endless  tattle  of  these  worthies. 

Among  the  water-carriers  who  once  resorted  to  this  well,  there 
was  a  sturdy,  strong-backed,  bandy-legged  little  fellow,  named 
Pedro  G  il,  but  called  Peregil  for  shortness.  Being  a  water-car- 
rier, he  was  a  Gallcgo,  or  native  of  Gallicia,  of  course.  Nature 
seems  to  have  formed  races  of  men,  as  she  has  of  animals,  for 
different  kinds  of  drudgery.  In  France  the  shoeblacks  are  aV 
Savoyards,  the  porters  of  hotels  all  Swiss,  and  in  the  days  of  hoops 
and  hair-powder  in  England,  no  man  could  give  the  regular  swing 
to  a  sedan  chair  but  a  bog-trotting  Irishman.  So  in  Spain,  the 
carriers  of  water  and  bearers  of'  burdens  are  all  sturdy  little 
natives  of  Gallicia.  No  man  says,  "  Get  me  a  porter,"  but, ."  Call 
a  G-allego." 

To  return  from  this  digression,  Peregil  the  Gallego  had  be- 
gun business  with  merely  a  great  earthen  jar  which  he  carried 
upon  his  shoulder ;  by  degrees  he  rose  in  the  world,  and  was 
enabled  to  purchase  an  assistant  of  a  correspondent  class  of  ani- 
mals, being  a  stout  shaggy-haired  donkey.  On  each  side  of  this 
his  long-eared  aid-de-camp,  in  a  kind  of  pannier,  were  slung  his 
water-jars,  covered  with  fig-leaves  to  protect  them  from  the  sun 
There  was  not  a  more  industrious  water-carrier  in  all  Granada, 
nor  one  more  merry  withal.  The  streets  rang  with  his  cheerful 
voice  as  he  trudged  after  'his  donkey,  singing  forth  the  usual 
eummer  note  that  resounds  through  the  Spanish  towns :  "  Qitien 
qulcre  agua — agua  mas  fria  quc  la  niece .?"  —  "  Who  wants 
water— watei  colder  than  snow?  Who  wants  water  from  tho 


A  POOK  MAN'S  HELPMATE.  24:9 

well  of  the  Alhambra,  cold  as  ice  and  clear  as  crystal  ?"  When 
he  served  a  customer  with  a  sparkling  glass,  it  was  always  with 
a  pleasant  word  that  caused  a  smile  ;  and  if,  perchance,  it  was  a 
comely  dame  or  dimpling  damsel,  it  was  always  with  a  sly  leer 
and  a  compliment  to  her  beauty  that  was  irresistible.  Thus 
Peregil  the  Gallego  was  noted  throughout  all  Granada  for  being 
one  of  the  civilest,  pleasantest,  and  happiest  of  mortals.  Yet  it  is 
not  he  who  sings  loudest  and  jokes  most  that  has  the  lightest 
heart.  Under  all  this  air  of  merriment,  honest  Peregil  had  his 
cares  and  troubles.  He  had  a  large  family  of  ragged  children  to 
support,  who  were  hungry  and  clamorous  as  a  nest  of  young 
swallows,  and  beset  him  with  their  outcries  for  food  whenever  he 
came  home  of  an  evening.  He  had  a  helpmate,  too,  who  was 
any  thing  but  a  help  to  him.  She  had  been  a  village  beauty 
before  marriage,  noted  for  her  skill  at  dancing  the  bolero  and 
rattling  the  castanets  ;  and  she  still  retained  her  early  propen- 
sities, spending  the  hard  earnings  of  honest  Peregil  in  frippery, 
and  laying  the  very  donkey  under  requisition  for  junketing 
parties  into  the  country  on  Sundays,  and  saints'  days,  and  those 
innumerable  holidays  which  are  rather  more  numerous  in  Spain 
than  the  days  of  the  week.  With  all  this  she  was  a  little  of  a 
slattern,  something  more  of  a  lie-abed,  and,  above  all,  a  gossip 
of  the  first  water ;  neglecting  house,  household,  and  every  thing 
else,  to  loiter  slipshod  in  the  houses  of  her  gossip  neighbors. 

He,  however,  who  tempers  the  wind  to  the  shorn  lamb,  ac- 
commodates the  yoke  of  matrimony  to  the  submissive  neck. 
Peregil  bore  all  the  heavy  dispensations  of  wife  and  children  with 
as  meek  a  spirit  as  his  donkey  bore  the  water-jars  ;  and,  however 
he  might  shake  his  ears  in  private,  never  ventured  to  quentiou 
the  household  virtues  of  his  slattern  spouse. 
11* 


250  THE   WELL    OF   THE    ALIIAMBKA. 

He  loved  his  children  too  even  as  an  owl  Icves  its  owlets, 
geeing  in  them  his  own  image  multiplied  and  perpetuated ;  for 
they  were  a  sturdy,  long-backed,  bandy-legged  little  brood.  The 
great  pleasure  of  honest  Peregil  was,  whenever  he  could  afford 
himself  a  scanty  holiday,  and  had  a  handful  of  marevedis  to  spare 
to  take  the  whole  litter  forth  with  him,  some  in  his  arms,  som 
tugging  at  his  skirts,  and  some  trudging  at  his  heels,  and  to  treat 
them  to  a  gambol  among  the  orchards  of  the  Vega,  while  his 
wife  was  dancing  with  her  holiday  friends  in  the  Angosturas  of 
the  Darro. 

It  was  a  late  hour  one  summer  night,  and  most  of  the  water- 
carriers  had  desisted  from  theiT  toils.  The  day  had  been  un- 
commonly sultry ;  the  night  was  one  of  those  delicious  moon- 
lights, which  tempt  the  inhabitants  of  southern  climes  to  in- 
demnify themselves  for  the  heat  and  inaction  of  the  day,  by 
lingering  in  the  open  air,  and  enjoying  its  tempered  sweetness 
until  after  midnight.  Customers  for  water  were  therefore  still 
'abroad.  Peregil,  like  a  considerate,  painstaking  father,  thought 
of  his  hungry  children.  "  One  more  journey  to  the  well,"  said 
he  to  himself,  "  to  earn  a  Sunday's  puchero  for  the  little  ones." 
So  saying,  he  trudged  manfully  up  the  steep  avenue  of  the  Al- 
hambra,  singing  as  he  went,  and  now  and  then  bestowing  a 
hearty  thwack  with  a  cudgel  on  the  flanks  of  his  donkey, 
either  by  way  of  cadence  to  the  song,  or  refreshment  to  the 
animal;  for  dry  blows  serve  in  lieu  of  provender  in  Spain  for  all 
beasts  of  burden. 

When  arrived  at  the  well,  he  found  it  deserted  by  every  one 
except  a  solitary  stranger  in  Moorish  garb,  seated  on  a  stone 
bench  in  the  moonlight.  Peregil  paused  at  first  and  regarded 
him  with  surprise,  not  ^mixed  with  awe,  but  the  Moor  feebly 


THE  TUKBANED   GUEST.  251 

beckoned  him  to  approach.  K  I  am.  faint  and  .  11,"  said  he,  "  aid 
me  to  return  to  the  city,  and  I  will  pay  tliee  double  what  thou 
couldst  gain  by  thy  jars  of  water." 

The  honest  heart  of  the  litle  water-carrier  was  touched  with 
compassion  at  the  appeal  of  the  stranger.  "  Grod  forbid,"  said 
he,  "  that  I  should  ask  fee  or  reward  for  doing  a  common  act  OA 
humanity."  He  accordingly  helped  the  Moor  on  his  donka^, 
and  set  off  slowly  for  Granada,  the  poor  Moslem  being  so  weak 
that  it  was  necessary  to  hold  him  on  the  animal  to  keep  him 
from  falling  to  the  earth. 

When  they  entered  the  city,  the  water-carrier  demanded 
whither  he  should  conduct  him.  "  Alas !"  said  the  Moor,  faintly, 
u  I  have  neither  home  nor  habitation,  I  am  a  stranger  in  the 
land.  Suffer  me  to  lay  my  head  this  night  beneath  thy  roof, 
and  thou  shalt  be  amply  repaid." 

Honest  Peregil  thus  saw  himself  unexpectedly  saddled  with 
an  infidel  guest,  but  he  was  too  humane  to  refuse  a  night's  shel- 
ter to  a  fellow  being  in  so  forlorn  a  plight,  so  he  conducted  the 
Moor  to  his  dwelling.  The  children,  who  had  sallied  forth  open- 
mouthed  as  usual  on  hearing  the  tramp  of  the  donkey,  ran  back 
with  affright,  when  they  beheld  the  turbaned  stranger,  and  hid 
themselves  behind  their  mother.  The  latter  stepped  forth  intre- 
pidly, like  a  ruffling  hen  before  her  brood  when  a  vagrant  dog 
approaches. 

"  What  infidel  companion,"  cried  she,  "  is  this  you  have 
brought  home  at  this  late  hour,  to  draw  upon  us  the  eyes  of  the 
inquisition  ?" 

"  Be  quiet,  wife,"  replied  the  Gallego,  "  here  is  a  poor  sick 
stranger,  without  friend  or  home ;  wouldst  thou  turn  him  forth 
to  perish  in  the  streets  ?" 


252  THE  TUKBANED    GUEST. 

The  wife  would  still  have  remonstrated,  for  although,  sho 
lived  in  a  hovel  she  was  a  furious  stickler  for  the  credit  of  her 
house  ;  the  little  water-carrier,  however,  for  once  was  stiffneckcd, 
and  refused  to  bend  beneath  the  yoke.  He  assisted  the  poor 
Moslem  to  alight,  and  spread  a  mat  and  a  sheep-skin  for  him,  on 
the  ground,  in  the  coolest  part  of  the  house ;  being  the  only 
kin_d  of  bed  that  his  poverty  afforded. 

In  a  little  while  the  Moor  was  seized  with  violent  convulsions, 
whice  defied  all  the  minstering  skill  of  the  simple  water-carrier. 
The  eye  of  the  poor  patient  acknowledged  his  kindness.  During 
an  interval  of  his  fits  he  called  him  to  his  side,  and  addressing 
him  in  a  low  voice,  "  My  end,"  said  he,  "  I  fear  is  at  hand.  If 
I  die,  I  bequeath  you  this  box  as  a  reward  for  your  charity :"  so 
saying,  he  opened  his  albornoz,  or  cloak,  and  showed  a  small 
box  of  sandal-wood,  strapped  round  his  body.  "  God  grant,  my 
friend,"  replied  the  worthy  little  Gallego,  "  that  you  may  live 
many  years  to  enjoy  your  treasure,  whatever  it  may  be."  The 
Moor  shook  his  head  ;  he  laid  his  hand  upon  the  box,  and  would 
have  said  something  more  concerning  it,  but  his  convulsions  re- 
turned with  increasing  violence,  and  in  a  little  while  he  ex- 
pired. 

The  water-carrier's  wife  was  now  as  one  distracted.  "  This 
comes,"  said  she,  "of  your  foolish  good  nature,  always  running 
into  scrapes  to  oblige  others.  What  will  become  of  us  when  this 
corpse  is  found  in  our  house  1  We  shall  be  sent  to  prison  as 
murderers  ;  and  if  we  escape  with  our  lives,  shall  be  ruined  by 
notaries  and  alguazils." 

Poor  Peregil  was  in  equal  tribulation,  and  almost  repented 
himself  of  having  done  a  good  deed.  At  length  a  thought  struck 
him.  "  It  is  not  yet  day,"  said  he ;  "I  can  convey  the  dead 


A   GOSSIP   BARBEK.  253 

body  out  of  the  city,  and  bury  it  in  the  sands  on  the  banks  of 
the  Xenil.  No  one  saw  the  Moor  enter  our  dwelling,  and  no  one 
will  know  any  thing  of  his  death." 

So  said,  so  done.  The  wife  aided  him ;  they  rolled  the  body 
of  the  unfortunate  Moslem  in  the  mat  on  which  he  had  expired, 
laid  it  across  the  ass,  and  Peregil  set  out  with  it  for  the  .banks 
of  the  river 

As  ill  luck  would  have  it,  there  lived  opposite  to  the  water- 
carrier  a  "barber  named  Pedrillo  Pedrugo,  one  of  the  most  pry- 
ing,  tattling,  and  mischief-making  of  his  gossip  tribe.  He  was  a 
weasel-faced,  spider-legged  varlet,  supple  and  insinuating ;  the 
famous  barber  of  Seville  could  not  surpass  him  for  his  universal 
knowledge  of  the  affairs  of  others,  and  he  had  no  more  power  of 
retention  than  a  sieve.  It  was  said  that  he  slept  but  with  one 
eye  at  a  time,  and  kept  one  ear  uncovered,  so  that,  even  in  his 
sleep,  he  might  see  and  hear  all  that  was  going  on.  Certain  it  is, 
he  was  a  sort  of  scandalous  chronicle  for  the  quid-nuncs  of  Gra- 
nada, and  had  more  customers  than  all  the  rest  of  his  fraternity. 

This  meddlesome  barber  heard  Peregil  arrive  at  an  unusual 
hour  at  night,  and  the  exclamations  of  his  wife  and  children. 
His  head  was  instantly  popped  out  of  a  little  window  which 
served  him  as  a  look-out,  and  he  saw  his  neighbor  assist  a  man 
in  Moorish  garb  into  his  dwelling.  This  was  so  strange  an  oc- 
currencef  that  Pedrillo  Pedrugo  slept  not  a  wink  that  night. 
Every  five  minutes  he  was  at  his  loophole,  watching  the  lights 
that  gleamed  through  the  chinks  of  his  neighbor's  door,  and  be- 
fore daylight  he  beheld  Peregil  sally  forth  with  his  donkey  un- 
usually laden. 

The  inquisitive  barber  was  in  a  fidget;  he  slipped  on  his 
clothes,  and,  stealing  forth  silently,  followed  the  water-carrier  at 
11* 


254:  A  GRIPING  ALCALDE. 

a  distance,  until  he  saw  him  dig  a  hole  in  the  sandy  bank  of  the 
Xenil,  and  bury  something  that  had  the  appearance  of  a  dead 
body. 

The  barber  hied  him  home,  and  fidgeted  about  his  shop,  set- 
ting every  thing  upside  down,  until  sunrise.  He  then  took  a 
basin  under  his  arm,  and  sallied  forth  to  the  house  of  his  daily 
customer  the  alcalde. 

The  alcalde  was  just  risen.  Pedrillo  Pedrugo  seated  him  in 
a  chair,  threw  a  napkin  round  his  neck,  put  a  basin  of  "hot  water 
under  his  chin,  and  began  to  mollify  his  beard  with  his  fingers. 

"  Strange  doings !"  said  Pedrugo,  who  played  barber  and 
newsmonger  at  the  same  time — "  Strange  doings !  Robbery,  and 
murder,  and  burial  all  in  one  night !" 

"  Hey  ! — how  ! — what  is  that  you  say  ?"  cried  the  alcalde. 

"  I  say,"  replied  the  barber,  rubbing  a  piece  of  soap  over  the 
nose  and  mouth  of  the  dignitary,  for  a  Spanish  barber  disdains  to 
employ  a  brush—"  I  say  that  Peregil  the  Gallego  has  robbed  and 
murdered  a  Moorish  Mussulman,  and  buried  him,  this  blessed 
night.  Maldita  sea  la  nocJie — accursed  be  the  night  for  the 
same !" 

"But  how  do  you  know  all  this?"  demanded  the  alcalde. 

"  Be  patient,  Senor,  and  you  shall  hear  all  about  it,"  replied 
Pedrillo,  taking  him  by  the  nose  and  sliding  a  razor  over  his 
cheek.  He  then  recounted  all  that  he  had  seen,  going  through 
both  operations  at  the  same  time,  shaving  his  beard,  washing  his 
chin,  and  wiping  him  dry  with  a  dirty  napkin,  while  he  was  rob- 
'bing,  murdering,  and  burying  the  Moslem. 

Now  it  so  happened  that  this  alcalde  was  one  of  the  most 
overbearing,  and  at  the  same  time  most  griping  and  corrupt  cur« 
mudgeons  in  all  Granada.  It  could  not  be  denied,  however,  that 


A  LEGAL   BLOOBHOTEND.  255 

he  set  a  high  value  upon  justice,  for  he  sold  it  at  its  weight  in 
gold.  He  presumed  the  case  in  point  to  be  one  of  murder  and 
robbery ;  doubtless  there  must  be  a  rich  spoil ;  how  was  it  to  bo 
secured  into  the  legitimate  hands  of  the  law  ?  for  as  to  merely 
entrapping  the  delinquent — that  would  be  feeding  the  gallows; 
but  entrapping  the  booty — that  would  be  enriching  the  judge, 
and  such,  according  to  his  creed,  was  the  great  end  of  justice. 
So  thinking,  he  summoned  to  his  presence  his  trustiest  alguazil 
— a  gaunt,  hungry-looking  varlet,  clad,  according  to  the  custom 
of  his  order,  in  the  ancient  Spanish  garb,  a  broad  black  beaver 
turned  up  at  its  sides  ;  a  quaint  ruff;  a  small  black  cloak  dang- 
ling from  his  shoulders ;  rusty  black  under-clothes  that  set  off 
his  spare  wiry  frame,  while  in  his  hand  he  bore  a  slender  white 
wand,  the  dreaded  insignia  of  his  office.  Such  was  the  legal 
bloodhound  of  the  ancient  Spanish  breed,  that  he  put  upon  the 
traces  of  the  unlucky  water-carrier,  and  such  was  his  speed  and 
certainty,  that  he  was  upon  the  haunches  of  poor  Peregil  be- 
fore he  had  returned  to  his  dwelling,  and  brought  both  him 
and  his  donkey  before  the  dispenser  of  justice. 

The  alcalde  bent  upon  him  one  of  the  most  terrific  frowns. 
u  Hark  ye,  culprit !"  roared  he,  in  a  voice  that  made  the  knees  of 
the  little  Gallego  smite  together — "  hark  ye,  culprit' !  there  is  no 
need  of  denying  thy  guilt,  every  thing  is  known  to  me.  A  gal- 
lows is  the  proper  reward  for  the  crime  thou  hast  committed, 
but  I  am  merciful,  and  readily  listen  to  reason.  The  man  that 
has  been  murdered  in  thy  house  was  a  Moor,  an  infidel,  the 
enemy  of  our  faith.  It  was  doubtless  in  a  fit  of  religious  zeai 
that  thou  hast  slain  him.  I  will  be  indulgent,  therefore  ;  render 
up  the  property  of  which  thou  hast  roobed  him,  and  we  will 
hush  the  matter  up." 


256  THE   BOX   OF    SANDAL-WOOD. 

The  poor  water-carrier  called  upon  all  the  saints  to  witness 
his  innocence  ;  alas  !  not  one  of  them  appeared  ;  and  if  they  had, 
the  alcalde  would  have  disbelieved  the  whole  calendar.  The 
water-carrier  related  the  whole  story  of  the  dying  Moor  with  the 
straightforward  simplicity  of  truth,  but  it  was  all  in  vain.  "Wilt 
thou  persist  in  saying,"  demanded  the  judge,  "  that  this  Moslem 
had  neither  gold  nor  jewels,  which  were  the  object  of  thy  cupidity  T'1 
"  As  I  hope  to  be  saved,  your  worship,"  replied  the  water- 
carrier,  "  he  had  nothing  but  a  small  box  of  sandal-wood  which 
he  bequeathed  to  me  in  reward  for  my  services." 

"  A  box  of  sandal-wood  !  a  box  of  sandal-wood  !"  exclaimed 
the  alcalde,  his  eyes  sparkling  at  the  idea  of  precious  jewels. 
u  And  where  is  this  box?  where  have  you  concealed  it?" 

"  An'  it  please  your  grace,"  replied  the  water-carrier,  "  it  is 
in  one  of  the  panniers  of  my  mule,  and  heartily  at  the  service  oi 
your  worship." 

He  had  hardly  spoken  the  words,  when  the  keen  alguazil 
darted  off,  and  reappeared  in  an  instant  with  the  mysterious  box 
of  sandal-wood.  The  alcalde  opened  it  with  an  eager  and  trem- 
bling hand ;  all  pressed  forward  to  gaze  upon  the  treasure  it 
was  expected  to  contain  ;  when,  to  their  disappointment,  nothing 
appeared  within,  but  a  parchment  scroll,  covered  with  Arabic 
characters,  and  an  end  of  a  waxen  taper. 

When  there  is  nothing  to  be  gained  by  the  conviction  of  a 
prisoner,  justice,  even  in  Spain,  is  apt  to  be  impartial.  The  al- 
calde, having  recovered  from  his  disappointment,  and  found  that 
there  was  really  no  booty  in  the  case,  now  listened  dispassion- 
ately to  the  explanation  of  the  water-carrier,  which  was  corro- 
borated by*the  testimony  of  his  wife.  Being  convinced,  there- 
fore, of  his  innocence,  lie  discharged  him  from  arrest ;  nay  more; 


THE   HEUJ    OF   KING   CHICO.  257 

ne  permitted  him  to  carry  off  the  Moor's  legacy,  the  box  of  san- 
dal-wood  and  its  contents,  as  the  well-merited  reward  of  his 
humanity  ;  but  he  retained  bis  donkey  in  payment  of  costs  and 
charges. 

Behold  the  unfortunate  little  Gallego  reduced  once  more  to 
lie  necessity  of  being  his  own  water-carrier,  and  trudging  up  to 
the   well  of  the  Alhambra  with  a  great  earthen  jar  upon  his 
shoulder. 

As  he  toiled  up  the  hill  in  the  heat  of  a  summer  noon,  hia 
usual  good  humor  forsook  him.  ':  Dog  of.  an  alcalde!"  would 
he  cry,  "  to  rob  a  poor  man  of  the  means  of  his  subsistence,  of 
the  best  friend  he  had  in  the  world  !"  And  then  at  the  remem- 
brance of  the  beloved  companion  of  his  labors,  all  the  kindness 
of  his  nature  would  break  forth.  "  Ah,  donkey  of  my  heart !" 
would  he  exclaim,  resting  his  burden  on  a  stone,  and  wiping  the 
sweat  from  his  brow — ':  Ah,  donkey  of  my  heart !  I  warrant  me 
thou  thinkest  of  thy  old  master  !  I  warrant  me  thou  missest  the 
water-jars — poor  beast." 

To  add  to  his  afflictions,  his  wife  received  him,  on  his  re- 
turn home,  with  whimperings  and  repinings  j  she  had  clearly 
the  vantage-ground  of  him,  having  warned  him  not  to  commit  the 
egregious  act  of  hospitality  which  had  brought  on  him  all  these 
misfortunes ;  and,  like  a  knowing  woman,  she  took  every  occa- 
sion to  throw  her  superior  sagacity  in  his  teeth.  If  her  children 
lacked  food,  or  needed  a  new  garment,  she  could  answer  with  a 
sneer — "  Go  to  your  father — he  is  heir  to  king  Chico  of  the  Al 
hambra :  ask  him  to  help  you  out  of  the  Moor's  strong  box." 

Was  ever  poor  mortal  so  soundly  punished  for  having  done 
a  good  action  ?  The  unlucky  Peregil  was  grieved  in  flesh  and 
spirit,  but  still  he  bore  meekly  with  the  railings 'of  his  spouso, 


258  THE   PAKCHMENT  SCROLL. 

At  length,  one  evening,  when,  after  a  hot  day's  toil,  she  taunted 
him  in  the  usual  manner,  he  lost  all  patience.  He  did  not  ven- 
ture to  retort  upon  her,  but  his  eye  rested  upon  the  box  of  san- 
dal-wood, which  lay  on  a  shelf  with  lid  half  open,  as  if  laughing 
in  mockery  at  his  vexation.  Seizing  it  up,  he  dashed  it  with 
indignation  to  the  floor :  "  Unlucky  was  the  day  that  I  ever  set 
eyes  on  thee,"  he  cried,  "  or  sheltered  thy  master  beneath  my 
roof !" 

As  the  box  struck  the  floor,  the  lid  flew  wide  open,  and  the 
parchment  scroll  rolled  forth. 

Peregil  sat  regarding  the  scroll  for  some  time  in  moody 
silence.  At  length  rallying  his  ideas  :  "  Who  knows,"  thought 
he,  "  but  this  writing  may  be  of  some  importance,  as  the  Moor 
seems  to  have  guarded  it  with  such  care  ?"  Picking  it  up  there- 
fore, he  put  it  in  his  bosom,  and  the  next  morning,  as  he  was  cry- 
ing water  through  the  streets,  he  stopped  at  the  shop  of  a  Moor. 
a  native  of  Tangiers,  who  sold  trinkets  and  perfumery  in  the 
Zacatin,  and  asked  him  to  explain  the  contents. 

The  Moor  read  the  scroll  attentively,  then  stroked  his  beard 
and  smiled.  "  This  manuscript,"  said  he,  "  is  a  form  of  incanta- 
tion for  the  recovery  of  hidden  treasure,  that  is  under  the  power 
of  enchantment.  It  is  said  to  have  such  virtue,  that  the  strong- 
est bolts  and  bars,  nay  the  adamantine  rock  itself,  will  yield 
before  it !" 

"  Bah  !"  cried  the  little  Gallego,  "  what  is  all  that  to  me  ?  I 
am  no  enchanter,  and  know  nothing  of  buried  treasure."  So 
saying,  he  shouldered  his  water-jar,  left  the  scroll  in  the  hands 
of  the  Moor,  and  trudged  forward  on  his  daily  rounds. 

That  evening,  however,  as  he  rested  himself  about  twilight 
at  the  well  of  the  Alhambra.  he  found  a  number  of  gossips  as- 


THE   WAX  TAPEE.  259 

eeinbled  at  the  place,  and  their  conversation,  as  ,s  not  unusual  at 
that  shadowy  hour,  turned  upon  old  tales  and  traditions  of  a 
supernatural  nature.  Being  all  poor  as  rats,  they  dwelt  with 
peculiar  fondness  upon  the  popular  theme  of  enchanted  riches 
left  by  the  Moors  in  various  parts  of  the  Alhambra.  Above  all 
they  concurred  in  the  belief  that  there  were  great  treasures 
buried  deep  in  the  earth  under  the  tower  of  the  seven  floors. 

These  stories  made  an  unusual  impression  on  the  mind  of 
the  honest  Peregil,  and  they  sank  deeper  and  deeper  into  his 
thoughts  as  he  returned  alone  down  the  darkling  avenues.  ''  If. 
after  all,  there  should  be  treasure  hid  beneath  that  tower:  and 
if  the  scroll  I  left  with  the  Moor  should  enable  me  to  get  at  it !" 
In  the  sudden  ecstasy  of  the  thought  he  had  well  nigh  let  fall  his 
water-jar. 

That  night  lie  tumbled  and  tossed,  and  could  scarcely  get  a 
wink  of  sleep  for  the  thoughts  that  were  bewildering  his  brain. 
Bright  and  early,  he  repaired  to  the  shop  of  the  Moor,  and  told 
him  all  that  was  passing  in  his  mind.  "  You  can  read  Arabic," 
said  he  ;  "  suppose  we  go  together  to  the  tower,  and  try  the  effect 
of  the  charm  ;  if  it  fails  we  are  no  worse  off  than  before ;  but  if 
it  succeeds,  we  will  share  equally  all  the  treasure  we  may  dis- 
cover." 

"  Hold,"  replied  the  Moslem  ;  "  this  writing  is  not  sufficient 
of  itself;-  it  must  be  read  at  midnight,  by  the  light  of  a  taper 
singularly  compounded  and  prepared,  the  ingredients  of  which 
are  not  within  my  reach.  Without  such  a  taper  the  scroll  is  of 
no  avail." 

"  Say  no  more  !"  cried  the  little  Gallego  ;  "  I  have  such  a 
taper  at  hand,  and  will  bring  it  here  in  a  moment."  So  saying 
he  hastened  home,  and  soon  returned  with  the  end  of  yellow  wax 
*aper  that  he  had  found  in  the  box  of  sandal-wood. 


260  THE   INCANTATION. 

The  Moor  felt  it  and  smelt  to  it.  "  Here  are  rare  and  costly 
perfumes,"  said  he,  Ct"  combined  with  this  yellow  wax.  This  is  the 
kind  of  taper  specified  in  the  scroll.  While  this  burns,  the 
strongest  walls  and  most  secret  caverns  will  remain  open.  Woo 
to  him.  however,  who  lingers  within  until  it  be  extinguished. 
Tic  will  remain  enchanted  with  the  treasure." 

It  was  now  agreed  between  them  to  try  the  charm  that  very 
night.  At  a  late  hour,  therefore,  when  nothing  was  stirring  but 
bats  and  owls,  they  ascended  the  woody  hill  of  the  Alhambra, 
and  approached  that  awful  tower,  shrouded  by  trees  and  rendered 
formidable  by  so  many  traditionary  tales.  By  the  light  of  a 
lantern,  they  groped  their  way  through  bushes,  and  over  fallen 
stones,  to  the  door  of  a  vault  beneath  the  tower.  With  fear  and 
trembling  they  descended  a  flight  of  steps  cut  into  the  rock.  It 
led  to  an  empty  chamber  damp  and  drear,  from  which  another 
flight  of  steps  led  to  a  deeper  vault.  In  this  way  they  descended 
four  several  flights,  leading  into  as  many  vaults  one  below  the 
other,  but  the  floor  of  the  fourth  was  solid ;  and  though,  accord- 
ing to  tradition,  there  remained  three  vaults  still  below,  it  was 
said  to  be  impossible  to  penetrate  further,  the  residue  being  shut 
up  by  strong  enchantment.  The  air  of  this  vault  was  damp  and 
chilly,  and  had  an  earthy  smell,  and  the  light  scarce  cast  forth 
any  rays.  They  paused  here  for  a  time  in  breathless  suspense, 
until  they  faintly  heard  the  clock  of  the  watchtower  strike  mid* 
night ;  upon  this  they  lit  the  waxen  taper,  which  diffused  an  odor 
of  myrrh  and  frankincense  and  storax. 

The  Moor  began  to  read  in  a  hurried  voice.  He  had  scarce 
finished  when  there  was  a  noise  as  of  subterraneous  thunder. 
The  earth  shook,  and  the  floor,  yawning  open,  disclosed  a  flight 
of  steps.  Trembling  with  awe  they  descended,  and  by  the  light 


ENCHANTED   TKEASUEE.  261 

of  the  lantern  found  themselves  in  another  vault,  covered  with 
Arabic  inscriptions.  In  the  centre  stood  a  great  chest,  secured 
witli  seven  bands  of  steel,  at  each  end  of  which  sat  an  enchanted 
Moor  in  armor,  but  motionless  as  a  statue,  being  controlled  by 
the  power  of  the  incantation.  Before  the  chest  were  several  jars 
filled  with  gold  and  silver  and  precious  stones.  In  the  largest  of 
these  they  thrust  their  arms  up  to  the  elbow,  and  at  every  dip 
hauled  forth  handfuls  of  broad  yellow  pieces  of  Moorish  gold,  or 
bracelets  and  ornaments  of  the  same  precious  metal,  while  occa- 
sionally a-  necklace  of  oriental  pearl  would  stick  to  their  fingers. 
Still  they  trembled  and  breathed  short  while  cramming  their 
pockets  with  the  spoils  ;  and  cast  many  a  fearful  glance  at  the 
two  enchanted  Moors,  who  sat  grim  and  motionless,  glaring  upon 
them  with  unwinking  eyes.  At  length,  struck  with  a  sudden 
panic  at  some  fancied  noise,  they  both  rushed  up  the  staircase, 
tumbled  over  one  another  into  the  upper  apartment,  overturned 
and  extinguished  the  waxen  taper,  and  the  pavement  again  closed 
with  a  thundering  sound. 

Filled  with  dismay,  they  did  not  pause  until  they  had  groped 
their  way  out  of  the  tower,  and  beheld  the  stars  shining  through 
the  trees.  Then  seating  themselves  upon  the  grass,  they  divided 
the  spoil,  determining  to  content  themselves  for  the  present  with 
this  mere  skimming  of  the  jars,  but  to  return  on  some  future 
night  and  drain  them  to  the  bottom.  To  make  sure  of  each 
other's  good  faith,  also,  they  divided  the  talismans  between 
them,  one  retaining  the  scroll  and  the  other  the  taper;  this  done, 
they  set  off  with  light  hearts  and  well-lined  pockets  for  Granada. 

As  they  wended  their  way  down  the  hill,  the  shrewd  Moor 
whispered  a  word  of  counsel  in  the  ear  of  the  simple  little  water* 
carrier. 


262  A  DISCKEET  HUSBAND. 

"  Friend  Peregil,"  said  he,  "  all  this  affair  must  be  kept  a  pro 
found  secret  until  we  have  secured  the  treasure,  and  conveyed  it 
out  of  harm's  way.  If  a  whisper  of  it  gets  to  the  ear  of  the 
alcalde,  we  are  undone  !" 

"  Certainly,"  replied  the  Gallego,  "  nothing  can  be  more  true." 

"  Friend  Peregil,"  said  the  Moor,  -  you  are  a  discreet  man, 
and  I  make  no  doubt  can  keep  a  secret :  but  you  have  a  wife.' 

"  She  shall  not  know  a  word  of  it,"  replied  the  little  water- 
carrier,  sturdily. 

"Enough,"  said  the  Moor,  "I  depend  upon  thy  discretion 
and  thy  promise." 

Never  was  promise  more  positive  and  sincere ;  but,  alas !  what 
man  can  keep  a  secret  from  his  wife?  Certainly  not  such  a  one 
as  Peregil  the  water-carrier,  who  was  one  of  the  most  loving  and 
tractable  of  husbands.  -On  his  return  home,  he  found  his  wife 
moping  in  a  corner.  "  Mighty  well,"  cried  she  as  he  entered, 
"  you've  come  at  last ;  after  rambling  about  until  this  hour  of  the 
night.  I  wonder  you  have  not  brought  honit  another  Moor  as  a 
house-mate."  Then  bursting  into  tears,  she  began  to  wring  her 
hands  and  smite  her  breast :  "  Unhappy  woman  that  I  am  !"  ex- 
claimed she,  "  what  will  become  of  me  ?  My  house  stripped  and 
plundered  by  lawyers  and  alguazils ;  my  husband  a  do-no-good, 
that  no  longer  brings  home  bread  to  his  family,  but.  goes  ram- 
bling about  day  and  night,  with  infidel  Moors  I  0  my  children  ! 
my  children !  what  will  become  of  us  ?  we  shall  all  have  to  beg 
in  the  streets !" 

Honest  Peregil  was  so  moved  by  the  distress  of  his  spouse, 
that  he  could  not  help  whimpering  also.  His  heart  was  as  full  as 
his  pocket,  and  not  to  be  restrained.  Thrusting  his  hand  into  the 
latter  he  hauled  forth  three  or  four  broad  gold  pieces,  and  slipped 


A   DISCREET   HUSBAND.  263 

fchem  into  her  bosom  The  poor  woman  stared  with  astonishment, 
and  could  not  understand  the  meaning  of  this  golden  shower. 
Before  she  could  recover  her  surprise,  the  little  Gallego  drew 
forth  a  chain  of  gold  and  dangled  it  before  her,  capering  will) 
exultation,  his  mouth  distended  from  ear  to  ear. 

"  Holy  Virgin  protect  us  !"  exclaimed  the  wife.  "  What  has  I 
thou  been  doing,  Peregil?  surely  thou  hast  not  been  committing 
murder  and  robbery !" 

The  idea  scarce  entered  the  brain  of  the  poor  woman,  than  it 
became  a  certainty  with  her.  She  saw  a  prison  and  a  gallows  in 
the  distance,  and  a  little  bandy-legged  Gallego  hanging  pendant 
from  it ;  and,  overcome  by  the  horrors  conjured  up  by  her  imagi- 
nation, fell  into  violent  hysterics. 

"What  could  the  poor  man  do  ?  He  had  no  other  means  of 
pacifying  his  wife,  and  dispelling  the  phantoms  of  her  fancy,  than 
by  relating  the  whole  story  of  his  good  fortune.  This,  however, 
he  did  not  do  until  he  had  exacted  from  her  the  most  solemn 
promise  to  keep  it  a  profound  secret  from  every  living  being. 

To  describe  her  joy  would  be  impossible.  She  flung  her  arms 
round  the  neck  of  her  husband,  and  almost  strangled  him  with 
her  caresses.  "  Now,  wife,"  exclaimed  the  little  man  with  honest 
exultation,  "  what  say  you  now  to  the  Moor's  legacy  ?  Hence- 
forth never  abuse  me  for  helping  a  fellow-creature  in  distress." 

The  honest  Gallego  retired  to  his  sheep-skin  mat,  and  slept  as 
soundly  as  if  on  a  bed  of  down.  Not  so  his  wife ;  she  emptied 
the  whole  contents  of  his  pockets  upon  the  mat,  and  sat  counting 
gold  pieces  of  Arabic  coin,  trying  on  necklaces  and  earrings,  and 
fancying  the  figure  she  should  one  day  make  when  permitted  to 
enjoy  her  riches 

On  the  following  morning  the  honest  Gallego  took  a  broad 


264  BEGGAKS   ON   HORSEBACK. 

golden  coin,  and  repaired  with  it  to  a  jeweller's  shop  in  the 
Zacatin  to  offer  it  for  sale,  pretending  to  have  found  it  among  the 
ruins  of  the  Alhambra.  The  jeweller  saw  that  it  had  an  Arabic 
inscription,  and  was  of  the  purest  gold ;  he  offered,  however,  but 
a  third  of  its  value,  with  which  the  water-carrier  was  perfectly 
content.  Peregil  now  bought  new  clothes  for  his  little  flock,  and 
all  kinds  of  toys,  together  with  ample  provisions  for  a  hearty 
meal,  and  returning  to  his  dwelling,  sat  all  his  children  dancing 
around  him,  while  he  capered  in  the  midst,  the  happiest  of 
fathers. 

The  wife  of  the  water-carrier  kept  her  promise  of  secrecy 
with  surprising  strictness.  For  a  whole  day  and  a  half  she  went 
about  with  a  look  of  mystery  and  a  heart  swelling  almost  to 
bursting,  yet  she  held  her  peace,  though  surrounded  by  her 
gossips.  It  is  true,  she  could  not  help  giving  herself  a  few  airs, 
apologized  for  her  ragged  dress,  and  talked  of  ordering  a  new 
basquina  all  trimmed  with  gold  lace  and  bugles,  and  a  new  lace 
mantilla.  She  threw  out  hints  of  her  husband's  intention  of 
leaving  off  his  trade  of  water-carrying,  as  it  did  not  altogether 
agree  with  his  health.  In  fact  she  thought  they  should  all  retire 
to  the  country  for  the  summer,  that  the  children  might  have  the 
benefit  of  the  mountain  air,  for  there  was  no  living  in  the  city  in 
this  sultry  season. 

The  neighbors  stared  at  each  other,  and  thought  the  poor 
woman  had  lost  her  wits ;  and  her  airs  and  graces  and  elegant 
pretensions  were  the  theme  of  universal  scoffing  and  merriment 
among  her  friends,  the  moment  her  back  was  turned. 

If  she  restrained  Jjerself  abroad,  however,  she  indemnified  her- 
self at  home,  and  putting  a  string  of  rich  oriental  pearls  round  her 
neck,  Moorish  bracelets  on  her  arms,  and  an  aigrette  of  diamonds 


THE   SECRET  BLOWN. 


265 


OQ  her  head,  sailed  backwards  and  forwards  in  her  slattern  rags 
about  the  room,  now  and  then  stopping  to  admire  herself  in  a 
broken  mirror.  Nay,  in  the  impulse  of  her  simple  vanity,  she 
could  not  resist,  on  one  occasion,  showing  herself  at  the  window 
to  enjoy  the  effect  of  her  finery  on  the  passers  by. 

As  the  fates  would  have  it,  Pedrillo  Pedrugo,  the  meddle- 
some barber,  was  at  this  moment  sitting  idly  in  his  shop  on  the 
opposite  side  of  the  street,  when  his  ever-watchful  eye  caught  the 
sparkle  of  a  diamond.  In  an  instant  he  was  at  his  loophole  re- 
connoitering  the  slattern  spouse  of  the  water-carrier,  decorated 
with  the  splendor  of  an  eastern  bride.  No  sooner  had  he  taken 
an  accurate  inventory  of  her  ornaments,  than  he  posted  off  with 
all  speed  to  the  alcalde.  In  a  little  while  the  hungry  alguazil  was 
again  on  the  scent,  and  before  the  day  was  over  the  unfortunate 
Peregil  was  once  more  dragged  into  the  presence  of  the  judge. 

"  How  is  this,  villain  !"  cried  the  alcalde,  in  a  furious  voice. 
"  Yoa  told  me  that  the  infidel  who  died  in  your  house  left  no- 
thing behind  but  an  empty  coffer,  and  now  I  hear  of  your  wife 
flaunting  in  her  rags  decked  out  with  pearls  and  diamonds. 
Wretch  that  thou  art !  prepare  to  render  up  the  spoils  of  thy 
miserable  victim,  and  to  swing  on  the  gallows  that  is  already 
tired  of  waiting  for  thee." 

The  terrified  water-carrier  fell  on  his  knees,  and  made  a  full 
relation  of  the  marvellous  manner  in  which  he  had  gained  his 
wealth.  The  alcalde,  the  alguazil,  and  the  inquisitive  barber 
listened  with  greedy  ears  to  this  Arabian  talc  of  enchanted 
treasure.  The  alguazil  was  dispatched  to  bring  the  Moor  who  had 
assisted  in  the  incantation.  The  Moslem  entered  half  frightened 
out  of  his  wits  at  finding  himself  in  the  hands  of  the  harpies  of 
the  law.  When  he  beheld  the  water-carrier  standing  with 
12 


266  THE  DEMANDS  OF  JUSTICE. 

ish  looks  and  downcast  countenance,  he  comprehended  the  whole 
matter,  «  Miserable  animal,"  said  he,  as  he  passed  near  him, 
u  did  I  not  warn  thee  against  babbling  to  thy  wife  ?" 

The  story  of  the  Moor  coincided  exactly  with  that  of  hia 
colleague ;  but  the  alcalde  affected  to  be  slow  of  belief,  and 
thiew  out  menaces  of  imprisonment  and  rigorous  investigation. 

"  Softly,  good  Senor  Alcalde,"  said  the  Mussulman,  who  by 
this  time  had  recovered  his  usual  shrewdness  and  self-possession. 
"  Let  us  not  mar  fortune's  favors  in  the  scramble  for  them.  No- 
body knows  any  thing  of  this  matter  but  ourselves ;  let  us  keep 
the  secret.  There  is  wealth  enough  in  the  cave  to  enrich  us  all. 
Promise  a  fair  division,  and  all  shall  be  produced  ;  refuse,  and 
the  cave  shall  remain  for  ever  closed." 

The  alcalde  consulted  apart  with  the  alguazil.  The  latter 
was  an  old  fox  in  his  profession.  "  Promise  any  thing,"  said  he, 
"  until  you  get  possession  of  the  treasure.  You  may  then  seize 
upon  the  whole,  and  if  he  and  his  accomplice  dare  to  murmur, 
threaten  them  with  the  fagot  and  the  stake  as  infidels  and  sor- 
cerers." 

The  alcalde  relished  the  advice.  Smoothing  his  brow  and 
turning  to  the  Moor,  "  This  is  a  strange  story,"  said  he,  "  and 
may  be  true,  but  I  must  have  ocular  proof  of  it.  This  very  night 
you  must  repeat  the  incantation  in  my  presence.  If  there  be 
really  such  treasure,  we  will  share  it  amicably  between  us,  and 
eay  nothing  further  of  the  matter ;  if  ye  have  deceived  me,  ex- 
pect no  mercy  at  my  hands.  In  the  mean  time  you  must  remain 
in  custody." 

The  Moor  and  the  water-carrier  cheerfully  agreed  to  these  con- 
ditions, satisfied  that  the  event  would  prove  the  truth  of  theii 
words. 


THE   TREASURE.  267 

Towards  midnight  the  alcalde  sallied  forth  secretly,  attended 
by  the  alguazil  and  the  meddlesome  barber,  all  strongly  armed. 
They  conducted  the  Moor  and  the  water-carrier  as  prisoners, 
and  were  provided  with  the  stout  donkey  of  the  latter  to  bear  ofl 
the  expected  treasure.  They  arrived  at  the  tower  without  being 
observed,  and  tying  the  donkey  to  a  fig-tree,  descended  into  the 
fourth  vault  of  the  tower 

The  scroll  was  produced,  the  yellow  waxen  taper  lighted,  and 
the  Moor  read  the  form  of  incantation.  The  earth  trembled  as 
before,  and  the  pavement  opened  with  -a  thundering  sound,  dis- 
closing the  narxow  flight  of  steps.  The  alcalde,  the  alguazil, 
and  the  barber  were  struck  aghast,  and  could  not  summon  cour- 
age to  descend.  The  Moor  and  the  water-carrier  entered  the 
lower  vault,  and  found  the  two  Moors  seated  as  before,  silent  and 
motionless.  They  removed  two  of  the  great  jars,  filled  with 
golden  coin  and  precious  stones.  The  water-carrier  bore  them 
up  one  by  one  upon  his  shoulders,  but  though  a  strong-backed 
little  man,  and  accustomed  to  carry  burdens,  he  staggered  be- 
neath their  weight,  and  found,  when  slung  on  each  side  of  his 
donkey,  they  were  as  much  as  the  animal  could  bear. 

"  Let  us  be  content  for  the  present,"  said  the  Moor ;  "  here 
is  as  much  treasure  as  we  can  carry  off  without  being  perceived, 
and  enough  to  make  us  all  wealthy  to  our  heart's  desire  " 

"  Is  there  more  treasure  remaining  behind  ?"  demanded  the 
alcalde. 

"  The  greatest  prize  of  all,"  said  the  Moor,-  "  a  huge  coffer 
bound  with  bands  of  steel,  and  filled  with  pearls  and  precious 
stones." 

"  Let  us  have  up  the  coffer  by  all  means,"  cried  the  grasping 
alcalde. 


268  .      THE   CATASTROPHE. 

"  I  will  descend  for  no  more,"  said  the  Moor,  doggedly ; 
"  enough  is  enough  for  a  reasonable  man — more  is  superfluous." 

"  And  I,"  said  the  water-carrier,  "  will  bring  up  no  further 
burden  to  break  the  back  of  my  poor  donkey." 

Finding  commands,  threats  and  entreaties  equally  vain,  the 
alcalde  turned  to  his  two  adherents.  "  Aid  me.'5  said  he.  li  to 
bring  up  the  coffer,  and  its  contents  shall  be  divided  between  us." 
So  saying  he  descended  the  steps,  followed  with  trembling  reluc- 
tance by  the  alguazil  and  the  barber. 

No  sooner  did  the  Moor  behold  them  fairly  earthed  than  he 
extinguished  the  yellow  taper ;  the  pavement  closed  with  its 
usual  crash,  and  the  three  worthies  remained  buried  in  itg 
womb. 

He  then  hastened  up  the  different  flights  of  steps,  nor  stop- 
ped until  in  the  open  air.  The  little  water-carrier  followed  him 
as  fast  as  his  short  legs  would  permit. 

"  What  hast  thou  done  ?"  cried  Peregil,  as  soon  as  he  could 
recover  breath.  "  The  alcalde  and  the  other  two  are  shut  up  in 
the  vault." 

"  It  is  the  will  of  Allah  !"  said  the  Moor  devoutly. 

"  And  will  you  not  release  them  ?"  demanded  the  Gallego. 

"  Allah  forbid  !"  replied  the  Moor,  smoothing  his  beard.  "  It 
is  written  in  the  book  of  fate  that  they  shall  remain  enchanted 
until  some  future  adventurer  arrive  to  break  the  charm.  The 
will  of  God  be  done  !"  so  saying,  he  hurled  the  end  of  the  waxen 
taper  far  among  the  gloomy  thickets  of  the  glen. 

There  was  now  no  remedy,  so  the  Moor  and  the  water-carrier 
proceeded  with  the  richly  laden  donkey  toward  the  city,  nor 
could  honest  Peregil  refrain  from  hugging  and  kissing  his  long- 
cared  fellow-laborer,  thus  restored  to  him  from  the  clutches  of 


A   FAIR   DIVISION.  269 

the  law  ;  and  in  fact,  it  is  doubtful  which  gave  the  simple  heart- 
ed little  man  most  joy  at  the  moment,  the  gaining  of  the  treasure, 
or  the  recovery  of  the  donkey. 

The  two  partners  in  good  luck  divided  their  spoil  amicably 
and  fairly,  except  that  the  Moor,  who  had  a  little  taste  for  trin- 
ketry,  made  out  to  get  into  his  heap  the  most  of  the  pearls  and 
precious  stones  and  other  baubles,  but  then  he  always  gave  the 
water-carrier  in  lieu  magnificent  jewels  of  massy  gold,  of  five 
times  the  size,  with  which  the  latter  was  heartily  content.  They 
took  care  not  to  linger  within  reach  of  accidents,  but  made  off 
to  enjoy  their  wealth  undisturbed  in  other  countries.  The  Moor 
returned  to  Africa,  to  his  native  city  of  Tangiers,  and  the  Gallego, 
with  his  wife,  his  children,  and  his  donkey,  made  the  best  of  his 
way  to  Portugal.  Here,  under  the  admonition  and  tuition  of  his 
wife,  he  became  a  personage  of  some  consequence,  for  she  made 
the  worthy  little  man  array  his  long  body  and  short  legs  in 
doublet  and  hose,  with  a  feather  in  his  hat  and  a  sword  by  his 
side,  and  laying  aside  his  familiar  appellation  of  Peregil,  assume 
the  more  sonorous  title  of  Don  Pedro  Gil :  his  progeny  grew  up 
a  thriving  and  merry-hearted,  though  short  and  bandy-legged 
generation,  while  Senora  Gil,  befringed,  belaced,  and  betasselled 
from  her  head  to  her  heels,  with  glittering  rings  on  every  finger, 
became  a  model  of  slattern  fashion  and  finery. 

As  to  the  alcalde  and  his  adjuncts,  they  remained  shut  up  un- 
der the  great  tower  of  the  seven  floors,  and  there  they  remain 
spell-bound  at  the  present  day.  Whenever  there  shall  be  a  lack 
in  Spain  of  pimping  barbers,  sharking  alguazils,  and  corrupt 
alcaldes,  they  may  be  sought  after  ;  but  if  they  have  to  wait  until 
sush  time  for  their  deliverance,  there  is  danger  of  their  enchant- 
ment enduring  until  doomsday. 


THE  TOWER  OF  LAS  INFAM'AS. 

IN  ail  evening's  stroll  up  a  narrow  glen,  overshadowed  by  fig- 
trees,  pomegranates,  and  myrtles,  which  divides  the  lands  of  the 
fortress  from  those  of  the  Generalife,  I  was  struck  with  the  ro- 
mantic appearance  of  a  Moorish  tower  in  the  outer  wall  of  the 
Alhambra,  rising  high  above  the  tree-tops,  and  catching  the  ruddy 
"  rays  of  the  setting  sun.  A  solitary  window  at  a  great  height 
commanded  a  view  of  the  glen ;  and  as  I  was  regarding  it,  a 
young  female  looked  out,  with  her  head  adorned  with  flowers. 
She  was  evidently  superior  to  the  usual  class  of  people  inhabiting 
the  old  towers  of  the  fortress  ;  and  this  sudden  and  picturesque 
glimpse  of  her  reminded  me  of  the  descriptions  of  captive  beauties 
in  fairy  tales.  These  fanciful  associations  were  increased  on 
being  informed  by  my  attendant  Mateo,  that  this  was  the  Tower 
of  the  Princesses  (La  Torre  de  las  Infantas) ;  so  called,  from 
having  been,  according  to  tradition,  the  residence  of  the  daugh- 
ters of  the  Moorish  kings.  I  have  since  visited  the  tower.  It  is 
not  generally  shown  to  strangers,  though  well  worthy  attention, 
for  the  interior  is  equal,  for  beauty  of  architecture,  and  delicacy 
of  ornament,  to  any  part  of  the  palace.  The  elegance  of  the  cen- 
tral hall,  with  its  marble  fountain,  its  lofty  arches,  and  richly 
fretted  dome ;  the  arabesques  and  stucco-work  of  the  small  but 
well-proportioned  chambers,  though  injured  by  time  and  neglect, 


THE   LADY   OF   TIIE   TOWEE.  271 

all  accord  with  the  story  of  its  being  anciently  the  abode  of  royal 
beauty, 

The  little  old  fairy  queen  who  lives  under  the  staircase  of  the 
Alhambra,  and  frequents  the  evening  tertulias  of  Dame  Antonia, 
tells  some  fanciful  traditions  about  three  Moorish  princesses,  who 
were  once  shut  up  in  this  tower  by  their  father,  a  tyrant  king  of 
Granada,  and  were  only  jpermitted  to  ride  out  at  night  about  the 
hills,  when  no  one  was  permitted  to  come  in  their  way  under  pain 
of  death.  They  still,  according  to  her  account,  may  be  seen  oc- 
casionally when  the  moon  is  in  the  full,  riding  in  lonely  places 
along  the  mountain  side,  on  palfreys  richly  caparisoned  and  spark- 
ling with  jewels,  but  they  vanish  on  being  spoken  to. 

But  before  I  relate  any  thing  further  respecting  these  prin- 
cesses, the  reader  may  be  anxious  to  know  something  about  the 
fair  inhabitant  of  the  tower  with  her  head  dressed  with  flowers, 
who  looked  out  from  the  lofty  window.  She  proved  to  be  the 
newly-married  spouse  of  the  worthy  adjutant  of  invalids ;  who, 
though  well  stricken  in  years,  had  had  the  courage  to  take  to  his 
bosom  a  young  and  buxom  Andalusian  damsel.  May  the  good 
old  cavalier  be  happy  in  his  choice,  and  find  the  Tower  of  the 
Princesses  a  more  secure  residence  for  female  beauty  than  it  seems 
to  have  proved  in  the  time  of  the  MoslemSj  if  we  may  believe  the 
following  legend ! 


LEGEND  OF  THE  THREE  BEAUTIFUL  PBINCESSES. 

IN  old  times  there  reigned  a  Moorish  king  in  Granada,  whose 
name  was  Mohamed,  to  which  his  subjects  added  the  appellation 
of  El  Hayzari,  or  "  The  Left-handed."  Some  say  he  was  so  called 
on  account  of  his  being  really  more  expert  with  his  sinister  than 
his  dexter  hand ;  others,  because  he  was  prone  to  take  every 
thing  by  the  wrong  end ;  or  in  other  words,  to  mar  wherever  he 
meddled.  Certain  it  is,  either  through  misfortune  or  mismanage- 
ment, he  was  continually  in  trouble :  thrice  was  he  driven  from 
his  throne,  and,  on  one  occasion,  barely  escaped  to  Africa  with 
his  life,  in  the  disguise  of  a  fisherman.*  Still  he  was  as  brave  as 
he  was  blundering ;  and  though  left-handed,  wielded  his  cimeter 
to  such  purpose,  that  he  each  time  re-established  himself  upon 
his  throne  by  dint  of  hard  fighting.  Instead,  however,  of  learn- 
ing wisdom  from  adversity,  he  hardened  his  neck,  and  stiffened 
his  left  arm  in  wilfulness.  The  evils  of  a  public  nature  which  he 
thus  brought  upon  himself  and  his  kingdom  may  be  learned  by 
those  who  will  delve  into  the  Arabian  annals  of  Granada ;  the 
present  legend  deals  but  with  his  domestic  policy. 

As  this  Mohamed  was  one  day  riding  forth  with  a  train  of 

*  The  reader  will  recognize  the  sovereign  connected  \vith  the  fortunes  of 
the  AJbencerrages.    His  story  appears  to  be  a  little  fictionized  in  the  legencL 


THE    CAPTIVE   MAID.  273 

his  courtiers,  by  the  foot  of  the  mountain  of  Elvira,  he  met  a  band 
of  horsemen  returning  from  a  foray  into  the  land  of  the  Chris- 
tians. They  were  conducting  a  long  string  of  mules  laden  with 
spoil,  and  many  captives  of  both  sexes,  among  whom  the  monarch 
was  struck  with  the  appearance  of  a  beautiful  damsel,  richly  at- 
tired, who  sat  weeping  on  a  low  palfrey,  and  heeded  not  the  con- 
soling words  of  a  duenna  who  rode  beside  her. 

The  monarch  was  struck  with  her  beauty,  and,  on  inquiring 
of  the  captain  of  the  troop,  found  that  she  was  the  daughter  of 
the  alcayde  of  a  frontier  fortress,  that  had  been  surprised  and 
sacked  ifl  the  course  of  the  foray.  Mohamed  claimed  her  as  hio 
royal  share  of  the  booty,  and  had  her  conveyed  to  his  harem  in 
the  Alhambra.  There  every  thing  was  devised  to  soothe  he:: 
melancholy ;  and  the  monarch,  more  and  more  enamored,  sought 
to  make  her  his  queen.  The  Spanish*  maid  at  first  repulsed  hi? 
addresses — he  was  an  infidel — he  was  the  open  foe  of  her  country 
— what  was  worse,  he  was  stricken  in  years  !  . 

The  monarch,  finding  his  assiduities  of  no  avail,  determined 
to  enlist  in  his  favor  the  duenna,  who  had  been  captured  with  the 
lady.  She  was  an  Andalusian  by  birth,  whose  Christian  name  is 
forgotten,  being  mentioned  in  Moorish  legends  by  no  other  appel- 
lation than  that  of  the  discreet  Kadiga — and  discreet  in  truth 
she  was,  as  her  whole  history  makes  evident.  No  sooner  had  the 
Moorish  king  held  a  little  private  conversation  with  her,  than  she 
saw  at  once  the  cogency  of  his  reasoning,  and  undertook  his  cause 
with  her  young  mistress. 

"  Go  to,  now !"  cried  she  ;  "  what  is  there  in  all  this  to  weep 

and  wail  about  1     Is  it  not  better  to  be  mistress  of  this  beautiful 

palace,  with  all  its  gardens  and  fountains,  than  to  be  shut  up 

within  vour  father's  old  frontier  tower'?     As  to  this  Mohamed 

12* 


274  THE   PREDICTION. 

being  an  infidel,  what  is  that  to  the  purpose  ?  You  marry  him, 
not  his  religion  :  and  if  he  is  waxing  a  little  old,  the  sooner  will 
you  be  a  widow,  and  mistress  of  yourself;  at  any  rate,  you  are  in 
his  power,  and  must  either  be  a  queen  or  a  slave.  When  in  the 
hands  of  a  robber,  it  is  better  to  sell  one's  merchandise  for  a  fair 
price,  than  to  have  it  taken  by  main  force." 

The  arguments  of  the  discreet  Kadiga  prevailed.  The  Span- 
ish lady  dried  her  tears,  and  became  the  spouse  of  Mohamed  the 
Left-handed ;  she  even  conformed,  in  appearance,  to  the  faith  of 
her  royal  husband ;  and  her  discreet  duenna  immediately  became 
a  zealous  convert  to  the  Moslem  doctrines :  it  was  then  the  latter 
received  the  Arabian  name  of  Kadiga,  and  was  permitted  to  re- 
main in  the  confidential  employ  of  her  mistress. 

In  due  process  of  time  the  Moorish  king  was  made  the  proud 
and  happy  father  of  three  lovely  daughters,  all  born  at  a  birth : 
he  could  have  wished  they  had  been  sons,  but  consoled  himself 
with  the  idea  that  three  daughters  at  a  birth  were  pretty  well  for 
a  man  somewhat  stricken  in  years,  and  left-handed  ! 

As  usual  with  all  Moslem  monarchs,  he  summoned  his  astrol- 
ogers on  this  happy  event.  They  cast  the  nativities  of  the  three 
princesses,  and  shook  their  heads.  "  Daughters,  0  king !"  said 
they,  "  are  always  precarious  property ;  but  these  will  most  need 
your  watchfulness  when  they  arrive  at  a  marriageable  age ;  at 
that  time  gather  them  under  your  wings,  and  trust  them  to  no 
other  guardianship." 

Mohamed  the  Left-handed  was  acknowledged  to  be  a  wise 
king  by  his  courtiers,  and  was  certainly  so  considered  by  himself. 
The  prediction  of  the  astrologers  caused  him  but  little  disquiet, 
trusting  to  his  ingenuity  to  guard  his  daughters  and  outwit  tho 
Fates 


SALOBRENA.  275 

The  three-fold  birth  was  the  last  matrimonial  trophy  of  the 
monarch ;  his  queen  bore  him  no  more  children,  and  died  within 
a  few  years,  bequeathing  her  infant  daughters  to  his  love,  and  to 
the  fidelity  of  the  discreet  Kadiga. 

Many  years  had  yet  to  elapse  before  the  princesses  would 
arrive  at  that  period  of  danger — the  marriageable  age :  "  It  is 
good,  however,  to  be  cautious  in  time,"  said  the  shrewd  monarch ; 
so  he  determined  to  have  them  reared  .in  the  royal  castle  of  Salo- 
brena.  This  was  a  sumptuous  palace,  incrusted,  as  it  were,  in  a 
powerful  Moorish  fortress  on  the  summit  of  a  hill  overlooking  the 
Mediterranean  sea.  It  was  a  royal  retreat,  in  which  the  Moslem 
monarchs  shut  up  such  of  their  relatives,  as  might  endanger  their 
safety ;  allowing  them  all  kinds  of  luxuries  and  amusements,  in 
the  midst  of  which  they  passed  their  lives  in  voluptuous  indolence. 

Here  the  princesses  remained,  immured  from  the  world,  but 
surrounded  by  enjoyment,  and  attended  by  female  slaves  who  an- 
ticipated their  wishes.  They  had  delightful  gardens  for  their 
recreation,  filled  with  the"  rarest  fruits  and  flowers,  with  aromatic 
groves  and  perfumed  baths.  On  three  sides  the  castle  looked 
down  upon  a  rich  valley,  enamelled  with  all  kinds  of  culture,  and 
bounded  by  the  lofted  Alpuxarra  mountains  ;  on  the  other  side- 
it  overlooked  the  broad  sunny  sea. 

In  ihis  delicious  abode,  in  a  propitious  climate,  and  under  a 
cloudless  sky,  the  three  princesses  grew  up  into  wondrous  beauty ; 
but,  though  all  reared  alike,  they  gave  early  tokens  of  diversity 
of  character.  Their  names  were  Zayda,  Zorayda,  and  Zorahayda ; 
and  such  was  their  order  of  seniority,  for  there  had  been  pre- 
cisely three  minutes  between  their  births. 

Zayda,  the  eldest,  was  of  an  intrepid  spirit,  and  took  the  lead 
of  her  sisters  in  every  thing,  as  she  had  done  in  entering  into  the 


276  THE  THREE   SISTERS. 

world.     She  was  curious  and  inquisitive,  and  fond  of  getting  at 
the  bottom  of  things. 

Zorayda  had  a  great  feeling  for  beauty,  which  was  the  reason, 
no  doubt,  of  her  delighting  to  regard  her  own  image  in  a  mirror 
or  a  fountain,  and  of  her  fondness  for  flowers,  and  jewels,  and 
other  tasteful  ornaments. 

As  to  Zorahayda,  the  youngest,  she  was  soft  and  timid,  and 
extremely  sensitive,  with  a.  vast  deal  of  disposable  tenderness,  as 
was  evident  from  her  number  of  pet-flowers,  and  pet-birds,  and 
pet-animals,  all  of  which  she  cherished  with  the  fondest  care.  Her 
Basements,  too,  were  of  a  gentle  nature,  and  mixed  up  with 
Busing  and  reverie.  She  would  sit  for  hours  in  a  balcony,  gazing 
•JQ  the  sparkling  stars  of  a  summer's  night ;  or  on  the  sea  when 
lit  up  by  the  moon ;  and  at  such  times,  the  song  of  a  'fisherman, 
faintly  heard  from  the  beach,  or  the  notes  of  a  Moorish  flute  from 
some  gliding  bark,  sufficed  to  elevate  her  feelings  into  ecstasy. 
•The  least  uproar  of  the  elements,  however,  filled  her  with  dismay; 
and  a  clap  of  thunder  was  enough  to  throw  her  into  a  swoon. 

Years  rolled  on  smoothly  and  serenely ;  the  discreet  Kadiga, 
to  whom  the  princesses  were  confided,  was  faithful  to  her  trust, 
and  attended  them  with  unremitting  care. 

The  castle  of  Salobrena,  as  has  been  said,  was  built  upon  a 
hill  on  the  sea-coast.  One  of  the  exterior  walls  straggled  down 
the  profile  of  the  hill,  until  it  reached  a  jutting  rock  overhanging 
the  sea,  with  a  narrow  sandy  beach  at  its  foot,  laved  by  the  rip 
pliug  billows.  A  small  watchtower  on  this  rock  had  been  fitted 
up  as  a  pavilion,  with  latticed  windows  to  admit  the  sea-breeze, 
Here  the  princesses  used  tc  pass  the  sultry  hours  of  mid-day. 

The  curious  Zayda  was  one  day  seated  at  a  window  of  the 
pavilion,  as  her  sisters,  reclining  on  ottomans,  were  taking  tbo 


THE  THREE   CAVALIERS.  277 

siesta  or  noontide  slumber.  Her  attention  was  attracted  to  a 
galley  which  came  coasting  along,  with  measured  strokes  of  the 
oar.  As  it  drew  near,  she  observed  that  it  was  filled  with  armed 
men.  The  galley  anchored  at  the  foot  of  the  tower :  a  number 
of  Moorish  soldiers  landed  on  the  narrow  beach,  conducting  sev- 
eral Christian  prisoners.  The  curious  Zayda  awakened  her  sis- 
ters, and  all  three  peeped  cautiously  through  the  close  jalousies 
of  the  lattice  which  screened  them  .  from  sight.  Among  the 
prisoners  were  three  Spanish  cavaliers,  richly  dressed.  They 
were  in  the  flower  of  youth,  and  of  noble  presence;  and  the 
lofty  manner  in  which  they  carried  themselves,  though  loaded 
with  chains  and  surrounded  with  enemies,  bespoke  the  grandeur 
of  their  souls.  The  princesses  gazed  with  intense  and  breathless 
interest.  Cooped  up  as  they  had  been  in  this  castle  among  female 
attendants,  seeing  nothing  of  the  male  sex  but  black  slaves,  or 
the  rude  fishermen  of  the  sea-coast,  it  is  not  to  be  wondered  at 
that  the  appearance  of  three  gallant  cavaliers,  in  the  pride  of 
youth  and  manly  beauty,  should  produce  some  commotion  in  their 
bosom. 

"  Did  ever  nobler  being  tread  the  earth  than  that  cavalier  in 
crimson  ?"  cried  Zayda,  the  eldest  of  the  sisters.  "  See  how 
proudly  he  bears  himself,  as  though  all  around  him  were  .his 
slaves !" 

"  But  notice  that  one  in  green  !"  exclaimed  Zorayda.  "  What 
grace  !  what  elegance  !  what  spirit !" 

The  gentle  Zorahayda  said  nothing,  but  she  secretly  gave 
preference  to  the  cavalier  in  blue. 

The  princesses  remained  gazing  until  the  prisoners  were  out 
of  sight;  then  heaving  long-drawn  sighs,  they  turned  round, 
looked  at  each  other  for  a  moment,  and  sat  down,  musing  and 
pensive,  on  their  ottomans. 


278  FEMALE  CUEIOSITY. 

The  discreet  Kadiga  found  them  in  this  situation ;  they  re- 
lated what  they  had  seen,  and  even  the  withered  heart  of  the 
duenna  was  warmed.  "  Poor  youths  !"  exclaimed  she,  "  I'll 
warrant  their  captivity  makes  many  a  fair  and  high-born  lady's 
heart  ache  in  their  native  land  !  Ah !  my  children,  you  have 
little  idea  of  the  life  these  cavaliers  lead  in  their  own  country. 
Such  prankling  at  tournaments !  such  devotion  to  the  ladies ! 
such  courting  and  serenading !" 

The  curiosity  of  Zayda  was  fully  aroused ;  she  was  insatiable 
in  her  inquiries,  and  drew  from  the  duenna  the  most  animated 
pictures  of  the  scenes  of  her  youthful  days  and  native  land.  The 
beautiful  Zorayda  bridled  up,  and  slyly  regarded  herself  in  a 
mirror,  when  the  theme  turned  upon  the  charms  of  the  Spanish 
ladies ;  while  Zorahayda  suppressed  a  struggling  sigh  at  the 
mention  of  moonlight  serenades. 

Every  day  the  curious  Zayda  renewed  her  inquiries,  and 
every  day  the  sage  duenna  repeated  her  stories,  which  were  lis- 
tened to  with  profound  interest,  though  with  frequent  sighs,  by 
her  gentle  auditors.  The  discreet  old  woman  awoke  at  length 
to  the  mischief  she  might  be  doing.  She  had  been  accustomed 
to  think  of  the  princesses  only  as  children  ;  but  they  had  imper- 
ceptibly ripened  beneath  her  eye,  and  now  bloomed  before  her 
three  lovely  damsels  of  the  marriageable  age.  It  is  time,  thought 
the  duenna,  to  give  notice  to  the  king. 

Mohamed  the  Left-handed  was  seated  one  morning  on  a  divan 
in  a  cool  hall  of  the  Alhambra,  when  a  slave  arrived  from  the  for- 
tress of  Salobrena,  with  a  message  from  the  sage  Kadiga.  con- 
gratulating him  on  the  anniversary  of  his  daughters'  birth-day. 
The  slave  at  the  same  time  presented  a  delicate  little  basket 
decorated  with  flowers,  within  which,  on  a  couch  of  vine  and  fig- 


THE  EMBLEMATICAL   OFFERING.  279 

leaves,  lay  a  peach,  an  apricot,  and  a  nectarine,  with  their  blooic 
and  down  and  dewy  sweetness  upon  them,  and  all  in  the  early 
stage  of  tempting  ripeness.  The  monarch  was  versed  in  the 
Oriental  language  of  fruits  and  flowers,  and  rapidly  divined  the 
meaning  of  this  emblematical  offering. 

"  So,"  said  he,  "  the  critical  period  pointed  out  by  the  astro- 
logers is  arrived  :  my  daughters  are  at  a  marriageable  age.  What 
is  to  be  done  ?  They  are  shut  up  from  the  eyes  of  men  ;  they 
are  under  the  eyes  of  the  discreet  Kadiga — all  very  good, — but 
still  they  are  not  under  my  own  eye,  as  was  prescribed  by  the 
astrologers :  I  must  gather  them  under  my  wing,  and  trust  to  no 
other  guardianship." 

So  saying,  he  ordered  that  a  tower  of  the  Alhambra  should 
be  prepared  for  their  reception,  and  departed  at  the  head  of  his 
guards  for  the  fortress  of  Salobrena,  to  conduct  them  home  in 
person. 

About  three  years  had  elapsed  since  Mohamed  had  beheld 
his  daughters,  and  he  could  scarcely  credit  his  eyes  at  the  won- 
derful change  which  that  small  space  of  time  had  made  in  their 
appearance.  During  the  interval,  they  had  passed  that  wondrous 
boundary  line  in  female  life  which  separates  the  crude,  unformed, 
and  thoughtless  girl  from  the  blooming,  blushing,  meditative 
woman.  It  is  like  passing  from  the  flat,  bleak,  uninteresting 
plains  of  La  Mancha  to  the  voluptuous  valleys  and  swelling  hills 
of  Andalusia. 

Zayda  was  tall  and  finely  formed,  with  a  lofty  demeanor  and 
a  penetrating  eye.  She  entered  with  a  stately  and  decided  step, 
and  made  a  profound  reverence  to  Mohamed,  treating  him  more 
as  her  sovereign  than  her  father.  Zorayda  was  of  the  middle 
height,  with  an  alluring  look  and  swimming  gait,  and  a  sparkling 


280  THREE  MAEEIAGEABLE  DAUGHTERS. 

beauty,  heightened  by  the  assistance  of  the  toilette.  She  ap 
proached  her  father  with  a  smile,  kissed  his  hand,  and  saluted 
him  with  several  stanzas  from  a  popular  Arabian  poet,  with  which 
the  monarch  was  delighted.  Zorahayda  was  shy  and  timid 
smaller  than  her  sisters,  and  with  a  beauty  of  that  tender  be- 
seeching  kind  which  looks  for  fondness  and  protection.  Sho  was 
little  fitted  to  command,  like  her  elder  sister,  or  to  dazzle  like 
the  second,  but  was  rather  formed  to  creep  to  the  bosom  of  manly 
affection,  to  nestle  within  it,  and  be  content.  She  drew  near  to 
her  father,  with  a  timid  and  almost  faltering  step,  and  would  have 
taken  his  hand  to  kiss,  but  on  looking  up  into  his  face,  and  see- 
ing it  beaming  with  a  paternal  smile,  the  tenderness  of  her  nature 
broke  forth,  and  she  threw  herself  upon  his  neck. 

Mohamed  the  Left-handed  surveyed  his  blooming  daughters 
with  mingled  pride  and  perplexity ;  for  while  he  exulted  in  their 
charms,  he  bethought  himself  of  the  prediction  of  the  astrologers. 
"  Three  daughters  !  three  daughters  !"  muttered  he  repeatedly 
to  himself,  "  and  all  of  a  marriageable  age  !  Here's  tempting 
Hesperian  fruit,  that'  requires  a  dragon  watch  !" 

He  prepared  for  his  return  to  Granada,  by  sending  heralds 
before  him.  commanding  every  one  to  keep  out  of  the  road  by 
which  he  was  to  pass,  and  that  all  doors  and  windows  should  be 
closed  at  the  approach  of  the  princesses.  This  done,  he  set  forth, 
escorted  by  a  troop  of  black  horsemen  of  hideous  aspect,  and  clad 
in  shining  armor. 

The  princesses  rode  beside  the  king,  closely  veiled,  on  beau- 
tiful white  palfreys,  with  velvet  caparisons,  embroidered  with 
gold,  and  sweeping  the  ground ;  the  bits  and  stirrups  were  of 
gold,  and  the  silken  bridles  adorned  with  pearls  and  precious 
Ptones.  The  palfreys  were  covered  with  little  silver  bells,  which 


THE  INTERVIEW.  281 

made  the  most  musical  tinkling  as  they  ambled  gently  along. 
Wo  to  the  unlucky  wight,  however,  who  lingered  in  the  way  when 
he  heard  the  tinkling  of  these  bells  ! — the  guards  were  ordered 
to  cut  him  down  without  mercy. 

The  cavalcade  was  drawing  near  to  Granada,  when  it  over* 
took  on  the  banks  of  the  river  Xenil,  a  small  body  of  Moorish 
soldiers  with  a  convoy  of  prisoners.  It  was  too  late  for  the  sol- 
diers to  get  out  of  the  way,  so  they  threw  themselves  on  their 
faces  on  the  earth,  ordering  their  captives  to  do  the  like.  Among 
the  prisoners  were  the  three  identical  cavaliers  whom  the  prin- 
cesses had  seen  from  the  pavilion.  They  either  did  not  under- 
stand, or  were  too  haughty  to  obey  the  order,  and  remained 
standing  and  gazing  upon  the  cavalcade  as  it  approached. 

The  ire  of  the  monarch  was  kindled  at  this  flagrant  defiance 
of  his  orders.  Drawing  his  cimeter,  and  pressing  forward,  he  was 
about  to  deal  a  left-handed  blow  that  might  have  been  fatal  to,  at 
least,  one  of  the  gazers,  when  the  princesses  crowded  round  him, 
and  implored  mercy  for  the  prisoners ;  even  the  timid  Zorahayda 
forgot  her  shyness,  and  became  eloquent  in  their  behalf.  Moha- 
med  paused,  with  uplifted  cimeter,  when  the  captain  of  the  guard 
threw  himself  at  his  feet.  "  Let  not  your  highness,"  said  he,  "  do 
a  deed  that  may  cause  great  scandal  throughout  the  kingdom. 
These  are  three  brave  and  noble  Spanish  knights,  who  have  been 
taken  in  'battle,  fighting  like  lions  ;  they  are  of  high  birth,  and 
may  bring  great  ransoms." — "  Enough !"  said  the  king.  "  I  will 
spare  their  lives,  but  punish  their  audacity — let  them  be  taken 
to  the  Vermilion  Towers,  and  put  to  hard  labor." 

Mohamed  was  making  one  of  his  usual  left-handed  blunders. 
In  the  tumult  and  agitation  of  this  blustering  scene,  the  veils  of 
fchu  three  princesses  had  been  thrown  back,  and  the  radiance  of 


282  SUDDEN  LOVE. 

their  beauty  revealed ;  and  in  prolonging  the  parley,  the  king 
had  given  that  beauty  time  to  have  its  full  effect.  In  those  days 
people  fell  in  love  much  more  suddenly  than  at  present,  as  all 
ancient  stories  make  manifest:  it  is  not  a  matter  of  wonder, 
therefore,  that  the  hearts  of  the  three  cavaliers  were  completely 
captured ;  especially  as  gratitude  was  added  to  their  admiration 
it  is  a  little  singular,  however,  though  no  less  certain,  that  each 
of  them  was  enraptured  with  a  several  beauty.  As  to  the  prin- 
cesses, they  were  more  than  ever  struck  with  the  noble  demeanor 
of  the  captives,  and  cherished  in  their  breasts  all  that  they  had 
heard  of  their  valor  and  noble  lineage. 

The  cavalcade  resumed  its  march ;  the  three  princesses  rode 
pensively  along  on  their  tinkling  palfreys,  now  and  then  stealing 
a  glance  behind  in  search  of  the  Christian  captives,  and  the  latter 
were  conducted  to  their  alloted  prison  in  the  Vermilion  Towers. 

The  residence  provided  for  the  princesses  was  one  of  the  most 
dainty  that  fancy  could  devise.  It  was  in  a  tower  somewhat  apart 
from  the  main  palace  of  the  Alhambra,  though  connected  with  it 
by  the  wall  which  encircled  the  whole  summit  of  the  hill.  On  one 
side  it  looked  into  the  interior  of  the  fortress,  and  had,  at  its 
foot,  a  small  garden  filled  with  the  rarest  flowers.  On  the  other 
side  it  overlooked  a  deep  embowered  ravine  separating  the 
grounds  of  the  Alhambra  from  those  of  the  Generalife.  The 
interior  of  the  tower  was  divided  into  small  fairy  apartments, 
beautifully  ornamented  in  the  light  Arabian  style,  surrounding  a 
lofty  hall,  the  vaulted  roof  of  which  rose  almost  to  the  summit  of 
the  tower.  The  walls  and  the  ceilings  of  the  hall  were  adorned 
with  arabesque  and  fretwork,  sparkling  with  gold  and  with 
brilliant  pencilling.  In  the  centre  of  the  marble  pavement  was 
2>n  alabaster  fountain,  set  round  with  aromatic  shrubs  and  flowers, 


DROOPING   KOSE-BTJDS.  283 

and  throwing  up  a  jet  of  water  that  cooled  the  whole  edifice  and 
had  a  lulling  ound.  R,ound  the  hall  were  suspended  cages  oi 
gold  and  silver  wire,  containing  singing-birds  of  the  finest 
plumage  or  sweetest  note 

The  princesses  had  been  represented  as  always  cheerful  whea 
in  the  castle  of  the  Salobrena ;  the  king  had  expected  to  see  them 
enraptured  with  the  Alhambra.  To  his  surprise,  however,  they 
began  to  pine,  and  grow  melancholy,  and  dissatisfied  with  every 
thing  around  them.  The  flowers  yielded  them  no  fragrance,  the 
song  of  the  nightingale  disturbed  their  night's  rest,  and  they 
were  out  of  all  patience  with  the  alabaster  fountain  with  its 
eternal  drop-drop  and  splash-splash,  from  morning  till  night,  and 
from  night  till  morning. 

The  king,  who  was  somewhat  of  a  testy,  tyrannical  disposition, 
took  this  at  first  in  high  dudgeon  ;  but  he  reflected  that  his 
daughters  had  arrived  at  an  age  when  the  female  mind  expands 
and  its  desires  augment.  "  They  are  no  longer  children,"  said  he 
to  himself,  "  they  are  women  grown,  and  require  suitable  objects 
to  interest  them."  He.  put  in  requisition,  therefore,  all  the  dress- 
makers, and  the  jewellers,  and  the  artificers  in  gold  and  silver 
throughout  the  Zacatin  of  Granada,  and  the  princesses  were 
overwhelmed  with  robes  of  silk,  and  tissue,  and  brocade,  and 
cashmere  shawls,  and  necklaces  of  pearls  and  diamonds,  and 
rings,  and  bracelets,  and  anklets,  and  all  manner  of  precious 
things. 

All,  however,  was  of  no  avail ;  the  princesses  continued  pale 
and  languid  in  the  midst  of  their  finery,  and  looked  like  three 
blighted  rose-buds,  drooping  from  one  stalk.  The  king  was  at 
his  wits'  end.  He  had  in  general  a  laudable  confidence  in  his 
own.  judgment,  and  never  took  advice.  "  The  whims  and  caprices 


284:  FEMALE   CAPKICES. 

of  three  marriageable  damsels,  however,  are  sufficient."  said  he 
"to  puzzle  the  shrewdest  head."  So  for  once  in  his  life  he  called 
in  the  aid  of  counsel. 

The  person  to  whom  he  applied  was  the  experienced  duenna. 

"  Kadiga,"  said  the  king,  "  I  know  you  to  be  one  of  the  most 
discreet  women  in  the  whole  world,  as  well  as  one  of  the  most 
trustworthy  j  for  these  reasons  I  have  always  continued  you 
about  the  persons  of  my  daughters.  Fathers  cannot  be  too  wary 
in  whom  they  repose  such  confidence ;  I  now  wish  you  to  find 
out  the  secret  malady  that  is  preying  upon  the  princesses,  and  to 
devise  some  means  of  restoring  them  to  health  and  cheerfulness." 

Kadiga  promised  implicit  obedience.  In  fact  she  knew  more 
of  the  malady  of  the  princesses  than  they  did  themselves.  Shut- 
ting herself  up  with  them,  however,  she  endeavored  to  insinuate 
herself  into  their  confidence. 

"  My  dear  Children,  what  is  the  reason  you  are  so  dismal  and 
downcast  in  so  beautiful  a  place,  where  you  have  every  thing  that 
heart  can  wish?" 

The  princesses  looked  vacantly  round  the  apartment,  and 
yighed. 

"  What  more,  then,  would  you  have  ?  Shall  I  get  you  the 
wonderful  parrot  that  talks  all  languages,  and  is  the  delight  of 
Granada?" 

"Odious!"  exclaimed  the  princess'Zayda.  "A  horrid,  scream- 
ing bird,  that  chatters  words  without  ideas :  one  must  be  without 
brains  to  tolerate  such  a  pest." 

"  Shall  I  send  for  a  monkey  from  the  rock  of  Gibraltar,  to 
divert  you  with  his  antics'?" 

"A  monkey!  faugh!"  cried  Zorayda;  "  the  detestable  mil  nio 
of  man.  I  hate  the  nauseous  animal." 


ELOQUENCE   OF  A   GUITAR.  285 

(:  What  say  you  to  the  famous  black  singer  Casern,  from  the 
royal  harem,  in  Morocco  1  They  say  he  has  a  voice  as  fine  as  a 
woman's." 

"  I  am  terrified  at  the  sight  of  these  black  slaves,"  said  the 
delicate  Zorahayda ;  "  besides,  I  have  lost  all  relish  for  music." 

"  Ah  !  my  child,  you  would  not  say  so,"  replied  the  old 
woman,  slyly,  "  had  you  heard  the  music  I  heard  last  evening 
from  the  three  Spanish  cavaliers,  whom  we  met  on  our  journey. 
But,  bless  me.  children !  what  is  the  matter  that  you  blush  so, 
and  are  in  such  a  flutter  ?" 

"  Nothing,  nothing,  good  mother ;  pray  proceed." 

"  Well ;  as  I  was  passing  by  the  Vermilion  Towers  last  even- 
ing, I  saw  the  three  cavaliers  resting  after  their  day's  labor. 
One  was  playing  on  the  guitar,  so  gracefully,  and  the  others  sang 
by  turns ;  and  they  did  it  in  such  style,  that  the  very  guards 
seemed  like  statues,  or  men  enchanted.  Allah  forgive  me !  I 
could  not  help  being  moved  at  hearing  the  songs  of  my  native 
country.  And  then  to  see  three  such  noble  and  handsome  youths 
in  chains  and  slavery  !" 

Here  the  kind-hearted  old  woman  could  not  restrain  her 
tears, 

"  Perhaps,  mother,  you  could  manage  to  procure  us  a  sight  of 
these  cavaliers,"  said  Zayda. 

"  I  think,"  said  Zorayda,  "  a  little  music  would  be  quite 
reviving." 

The  timid  Zorahayda  said  nothing,  but  threw  her  arms  round 
the  neck  of  Kadiga. 

"  Mercy  on  me  !"  exclaimed  the  discreet  old  woman ;  "  what 
are  you  talking  of,  my  children  ?  Your  father  would  be  the 
death  of  us  all  if  he  heard  of  such  a  thing.  To  be  sure,  these 


286  THE   KENEGADO   GUARD. 

cavaliers  are  evidently  well-bred,  and  high-minded  youths ;  but 
what  of  that  ?  they  are  the  enemies  of  our  faith,  and  you  must 
not  even  think  of  them  but  with  abhorrence." 

There  is  an  admirable  intrepidity  in  the  female  will,  particu- 
larly when  about  the  marriageable  age,  which  is  not  to  be  deter- 
red by  dangers  and  prohibitions.  The  princesses  hung  round 
their  old  duenna,  and  coaxed,  and  entreated,  and  declared  that  a 
refusal  would  break  their  hearts. 

What  could  she  do  ?  She  was  certainly  the  most  discreet  old 
woman  in  the  whole  world,  and  one  of  the  most  faithful  servants 
to  the  king ;  but  was  she  to  see  three  beautiful  princesses  break 
their  hearts  for  the  mere  tinkling  of  a  guitar  ?  Besides,  though 
she  had  been  so  long  among  the  Moors,  and  changed  her  faith  in 
imitation  of  her  mistress,  like  a  trusty  follower,  yet  she  was  a 
Spaniard  born,  and  had  the  lingerings  of  Christianity  in  her 
heart.  So  she  set  about  to  contrive  how  the  wish  of  the  prin- 
cesses might  be  gratified. 

The  Christian  captives,  confined  in  the  Vermilion  Towers, 
were  under  •  the  charge  of  a  big-whiskered,  broad-shouldered 
renegado,  called  Hussein  Baba,  who  was  reputed  to  have  a  most 
itching  palm.  She  went  to  him  privately,  and  slipping  a  broad 
piece  of  gold  into  his  hand,  "  Hussein  Baba,"  said  she ;  "  my 
mistresses,  the  three  princesses,  who  are  shut  up  in  the  tower, 
and  in  sad  want  of  amusement,  have  heard  of  the  musical  talents 
of  the  three  Spanish  cavaliers,  and  are  desirous  of  hearing  a 
specimen  of  their  skill.  I  am  sure  you  are  too  kind-hearted  to 
refuse  them  so  innocent  a  gratification." 

"What!  and  to  have  my  head  set  grinning  over  the  gate  of 
zny  own  tower !  for  that  would  be  the  reward,  if  the  king  should 
discover  it." 


LOVE   DITTIES. 


287 


t;  No  danger  of  any  thing  of  the  kind ;  the  affair  may  be 
managed  so  that  the  whim  of  the  princesses  may  be  gratified, 
and  their  father  be  never  the  wiser.  You  know  the  deep  ravine 
outside  of  the  walls  which  passes  immediately  below  the  tower. 
Put  the  three  Christians  to  work  there,  and  at  the  intervals  of 
their  labor,  let  them  play  and  sing,  as  if  for  their  own  recreation. 
In  this  way  the  princesses  will  be  able  to  hear  them  from  tho 
windows  of  the  tower,  and  you  may  be  sure  of  their  paying  well 
for  your  compliance." 

As  the  good  old  woman  concluded  her  harangue,  she  kindly 
pressed  the  rough  hand  of  the  renegado,  and  left  within  it 
another  piece  of  gold. 

Her  eloquence  was  irresistible.  The  very  next  day  the  three 
cavaliers  were  put  to  work  in  the  ravine.  During  the  noontide 
heat,  when  their  fellow-laborers  were  sleeping  in  the  shade,  and 
the  guard  nodding  drowsily  at  his  post,  they  seated  themselves 
among  the  herbage  at  the  foot  of  the  tower,  and  sang  a  Spanish 
roundelay  to  the  accompaniment  of  the  guitar. 

The  glen  was  deep,  the  tower  was  high,  but  their  voices  rose 
distinctly  in  the  stillness  of  the  summer  noon.  The  princesses 
listened  from  their  balcony,  they  had  been  taught  the  Spanish 
language  by  their  duenna,  and  were  moved  by  the  tenderness  of 
the  song.  The  discreet  Kadiga,  on  the  contrary,  was  terribly 
shocked.  "  Allah  preserve  us  !"  cried  she,  "  they  are  singing  a 
love-ditty,  addressed  to  yourselves.  Did  ever  mortal  hear  of  such 
audacity?  I  will  run  to  the  slave-master,  and  have  them  soundly 
bastinadoed." 

"  "What !  bastinado  such  gallant  cavaliers,  and  foi  singing  so 
charmingly !"  The  three  beautiful  princesses  were  filled  with 
horror  at  the  idea.  With  all  her  virtuous  indignation,  the  good 


THE   LANGUAGE   OF   FLOWERS. 

old  woman  was  of  a  placable  nature,  and  easily  appeased. 
Besides,  the  music  seemed  to  have  a  beneficial  effect  upon  her 
young  mistresses.  A  rosy  bloom  had  already  come  to  their 
cheeks,  and  their  eyes  began  to  sparkle.  She  made  no  further 
objection,  therefore,  to  the  amorous  ditty  of  the  cavaliers. 

When  it  was  finished,  the  princesses  remained  silent  for  a 
time ;  at  length  Zorayda  took  up  a  lute,  and  with  a  sweet,  though 
faint  and  trembling  voice,  warbled  a  little  Arabian  air,  the  burden 
of  which  was,  "  The  rose  is  concealed  among  her  leaves,  but  she 
listens  with  delight  to  the  song  of  the  nightingale." 

From  this  time  forward  the  cavaliers  worked  almost  daily  in 
the  ravine.  The  considerate  Hussein  Baba  became  more  and 
more  indulgent,  and  daily  more  prone  to  sleep  at  his  post.  For 
some  time  a  vague  intercourse  was  kept  up  by  popular  songs  and 
romances,  which,  in  some  measure,  responded  to  each  other,  and 
breathed  the  feelings  of  the  parties.  By  degrees  the  princesses 
showed  themselves  at  the  balcony,  when  they  could  do  so  without 
being  perceived  by  the  guards.  They  conversed  with  the  cavaliers 
also,  by  means  of  flowers,  with  the  symbolical  language  of  which 
they  were  mutually  acquainted :  the  difficulties  of  their  inter- 
course added  to  its  charms,  and  strengthened  the  passion  ^hey 
had  so  singularly  conceived ;  for  love  delights  to  struggle  with 
difficulties,  and  thrives  the  most  hardily  on  the  scantiest  soil. 

The  change  effected  in  the  looks  and  spirits  of  the  princesses 
by  this  secret  intercourse,  surprised  and  gratified  the  Left-handed 
king;  but  no  one  was  more  elated  than  the  discreet  Kadiga, 
who  considered  it  all  owing  to  her  able  management. 

At  length  there  was  an  interruption  in  this  telegraphic  cor- 
respondence :  for  several  days  the  cavaliers  ceased  to  make  their 
appearance  in  the  glen.  The  princesses  looked  out  from  the 


COLD   COMFORT.  289 

tower  in  vain.  In  vain  they  stretched  their  swan-like  necks 
from  the  balcony ;  in  vain  they  sang  like  captive  nightingales  in 
their  cage  :  nothing  was  to  be  seen  of  their  Christian  lovers ;  not 
a  note  responded  from  the  groves.  The  discreet  Kadiga  sallied 
forth  in  quest  of  intelligence,  and  soon  returned  with  a  face  full 
of  trouble.  "  Ah,  my  children  !"  cried  she.  "  I  saw  what  all  this 
would  come  to,  but  you  would  have  your  way ;  you  may  now 
hang  up  your  lutes  on  the  willows.  The  Spanish  cavaliers  arc 
ransomed  by  their  families ;  they  are  down  in  Granada,  and  pre- 
paring to  return  to  their  native  country." 

The  three  beautiful  princesses  were  in  despair  at  the  tidings. 
Zayda  was  indignant  at  the  slight  put  upon  them,  in  thus  being 
deserted  without  a  parting  word.  Zorayda  wrung  her  hands  and 
cried,  and  looked  in  the  glass,  and  wiped  away  her  tears,  and 
cried  afresh.  The  gentle  Zorahayda  leaned  over  the  balcony  and 
wept  in  silence,  and  her  tears  fell  drop  by  drop  among  tho 
flowers  of  the  bank  where  the  faithless  cavaliers  had  so  often 
been  seated. 

The  discreet  Kadiga  did  all  in  her  power  to  soothe  their  sor- 
row. "  Take  comfort,  my  children,"  said  she,  "  this  is  nothing 
when  you  are  used  to  it.  This  is  the  way  of  the  world.  Ah ! 
when  you  are  as  old  as  I  am,  you  will  know  how  to  value  these 
men.  I'll  warrant  these  cavaliers  have  their  loves  among  the 
Spanish  beauties  of  Cordova  and  Seville,  and  will  soon  be  sere- 
nading under  their  balconies,  and  thinking  no  more  of  the  Moor- 
ish beauties  in  the  Alhambra.  Take  comfort,  therefore,  my 
children,  and  drive  them  from  your  hearts." 

The  comforting  words  of  the  discreet  Kadiga  only  redoubled 
LJie  distress  of  the  three  princesses,  and  for  two  days  they  OOLL- 


13 


290  THE   AFFLICTED   DUENNA. 

tinued  inconsolable.  On  the  morniug  of  the  third,  the  good  old 
woman  entered  their  apartment,  all  ruffling  with  indignation. 

"  Who  would  have  believed  such  insolence  in  mortal  man  !" 
exclaimed  she,  as  soon  as  she  could  find  words  to  express  her- 
self ;  "  but  I  am  rightly  served  for  having  connived  at  this  de- 
ception of  your  worthy  father.  Never  talk  more  to  me  of  your 
Spanish  cavaliers." 

"  Why,  what  has  happened,  good  Kadiga  ?"  exclaimed  the 
princesses  in  breathless  anxiety. 

"  What  has  happened  ? — treason  has  happened  !  or  what  is 
almost  as  bad,  treason  has  been  proposed  ;  and  to  me,  the  most 
faithful  of  subjects,  the  trustiest  of  duennas  !  Yes,  my  children, 
the  Spanish  cavaliers  have  dared  to  tamper  with  me,  that  I  should 
persuade  you  to  fly  with  them  to  Cordova,  and  become  their 
wives  !" 

Here  the  excellent  old  woman  covered  her  face  with  her 
hands,  and  gave  way  to  a  violent  burst  of  grief  and  indignation. 
The  three  beautiful  princesses  turned  pale  and  red,  pale  and  red, 
and  trembled,  and  looked  down,  and  cast  shy  looks  at  each  other, 
but  said  nothing.  Meantime,  the  old  woman  sat  rocking  back- 
ward and  forward  in  violent  agitation,  and  now  and  then  break- 
ing out  into  exclamations,  "  That  ever  I  should  live  to  be  so 
insulted  ! — I,  the  most  faithful  of  servants  !" 

At  length,  the  eldest  princess,  who  had  most  spirit  and  al- 
ways took  the  lead,  approached  her,  and  laying  her  hand  upon  her 
shoulder,  "  Well,  mother,"  said  she.  "  supposing  we  were  willing 
to  fly  with  these  Christian  cavaliers — is  such  a  thing  possible  ?" 

The  good  old  woman  paused  suddenly  in  her  grief,  and  look- 
ing, up,  "  Possible."  echoed  she ;  "  to  be  sure,  it  is  possible. 
Have  not  the  cavaliers  already  bribed  Hussein  Baba,  the  rcne- 


CONSOLATION.  291 

gado  captain  of  the  guard,  and  arranged  the  whole  plan  ?  But, 
then,  to  think  of  deceiving  your  father !  your  father,  who  has 
placed  such  confidence  in  me  !"  Here  the  worthy  woman  gave 
way  to  a  fresh  burst  of  grief,  and  began  again  to  rock  backward 
and  forward,  and  to  wring  her  hands. 

"  But  our  father  has  never  placed  any  confidence  in  us,''  said 
the  eldest  princess,  "but  has  trusted  to  bolts  and  bars,  and  treat- 
ed us  as  captives." 

"  Why,  that  is  true  enough,"  replied  the  old  woman,  again 
pausing  in  her  grief ;  he  has  indeed  treated  you  most  unreason- 
ably, keeping  you  shut  up  here,  to  waste  your  bloom  in  a  moping 
old  tower,  like  roses  left  to  wither  in  a  flower-jar.  But,  then,  to 
fly  from  your  native  land  !" 

"  And  is  not  the  land  we  fly  to,  the  native  land  of  our  mother, 
where  we  shall  live  in  freedom  ?  And  shall  we  not  each  have  a 
youthful  husband  in  exchange  for  a  severe  old  father  ?" 

"  Why,  that  again  is  all  very  true  ;  and  your  father,  I  must 
confess,  is  rather  tyrannical :  but-  what  then,"  relapsing  into  her 
grief,  "  would  you  leave  me  behind  to  bear  the  brunt  of  his  ven- 
geance?" 

"  By  no  means,  my  good  Kadiga ;  cannot  you  fly  with  us  ?" 

"  Very  true,  my  child  ;  and,  to  tell  the  truth,  when  I  talked 
the  matter  over  with  Hussein  Baba,  he  promised  to  take  care  of 
me,  if  1  would  accompany  you  in  your  flight:  but  then,  bethink 
you,  my  children,  are  you  willing  to  renounce  the  faith  of  your 
father?" 

"  The  Christian  faith  was  the  original  faith  of  our  mother," 
gaid  the  eldest  princess ;  "  I  am  ready  to  embrace  it,  and  so,  I 
ain  sure,  are  my  sisters." 

"Right  again/'  exclaimed  the  old  woman,  brightening  up ; 


292  THE   ARRANGEMENT. 

u  it  was  the  original  faith  of  your  mother,  and  bitterly  did  she 
lament,  on  her  death-bed,  that  she  had  renounced  it.  I  promised 
her  then  to  take  care  of  your  souls,  and  I  rejoice  to  see  that  they 
are  now  in  a  fair  way  to  be  saved.  Yes,  my  children.  I,  too,  was 
born  a  Christian,  and  have  remained  a  Christian  in  my  heart, 
and  am  resolved  to  return  to  the  faith.  I  have  talked  on  the 
Subject  with  Hussein  Baba,  who  is  a  Spaniard  by  birth,  and 
conies  from  a  place  not  far  from  my  native  town.  He  is  equally 
anxious  to  see  his  own  country,  and  to  be  reconciled  to  the  church ; 
and  the  cavaliers  have  promised,  that,  if  we  are  disposed  to  be- 
come man  and  wife,  on  returning  to  our  native  land,  they  will 
provide  for  us  handsomely." 

In  a  word,  it  appeared  that  this  extremely  discreet  and  pro- 
vident old  woman  had  consulted  with  the  cavaliers  and  the  rene- 
gado,  and  had  concerted  the  whole  plan  of  escape.  The  eldest 
princess  immediately  assented  to  it ;  and  her  example,  as  usual, 
determined  the  conduct  of  her  sisters.  It  is  true,  the  youngest 
hesitated,  for  she  was  gentle  and  timid  of  soul,  and  there  was  a 
struggle  in  her  bosom  between  filial  feeling  and  youthful  pas- 
sion :  the  latter,  however,  as  usual,  gained  the  victory,  and  with 
silent  tears,  and  stifled  sighs,  she  prepared  herself  for  flight. 

The  rugged  hill,  on  which  the  Alhambra  is  built,  was,  in  old 
times,  perforated  with  subterranean  passages,  cut  through  the 
rock,  and  leading  from  the  fortress  to  various  parts  of  the  city, 
and  to  distant  sally-ports  on  the  banks  of  the  Darro  and  the  Xe- 
nil.  They  had  been  constructed  at  different  times  by  the  Moor- 
ish kings,  as  means  of  escape  from  sudden  insurrections,  or  of 
secretly  issuing  forth  on  private  enterprises.  Many  of  them  are 
DOW  entirely  lost,  while  others  remain,  partly  choked  with  rub- 
bish, and  partly  walled  up ;  monuments  of  the  jealous  precautions 


THE  LADDER  OF  ROPES.  293 

and  warlike  stratagems  of  the  Moorish  government.  By  one  of 
these  passages,  Hussein  Baba  had  undertaken  to  conduct  the 
princesses  to  a  sally-port  beyond  the  walls  of  the  city,  where  the 
cavaliers  were  to  be  ready  with  fleet  steeds,  to  bear  the  whole 
party  over  the  borders. 

The  appointed  night  arrived :  the  tower  of  the  princesses  had 
been  locked  up  as  usual,  and  the  Alhambra  was  buried  in  deep 
eloep.  Towards  midnight,  the  discreet  Kadiga  listened  from  the 
balcony  of  a  window  that  looked  into  the  garden.  Hussein  Baba, 
the  renegado,  was  already  below,  and  gave  the  appointed  signal. 
The  duenna  fastened  -the  end  of  a  ladder  of  ropes  to  the  balcony, 
lowered  it  into  the  garden  and  descended.  The  two  eldest  prin- 
cesses followed  her  with  beating  hearts ;  but  when  it  came  to  the 
turn  of  the  youngest  princess,  Zorahayda,  she  hesitated,  and 
trembled.  Several  times  she  ventured  a  delicate  little  foot  upon 
the  ladder,  and  as  often  drew  it  back,  while  her  poor  little  heart 
fluttered  more  and  more  the  longer  she  delayed.  She  cast  a  wist- 
ful look  back  into  the  silken  chamber ;  she  had  lived  in  it,  to  be 
sure,  like  a  bird  in  a  cage ;  but  within  it  she  was  secure ;  who 
could  tell  what  dangers  might  beset  her,  should  she  flutter  forth 
into  the  wide  world !  Now  she  bethought  her  of  her  gallant 
Christian  lover,  and  her  little  foot  was  instantly  upon  the  ladder; 
and  anon  she  thought  of  her  father,  and  shrank  back.  But  fruit- 
less is  the  attempt  to  describe  the  conflict  in  the  bosom  of  one  so 
young  and  tender  and  loving ;  but  so  timid,  and  so  ignorant  of 
the  world. 

In  vain  her  sisters  implored,  the  duenna  scolded,  and  the  ren- 
egade blasphemed  beneath  the  balcony ;  the  gentle  little  Moorish 
maid  stood  doubting  and  wavering  on  the  verge  of  elopement ; 
tempted  by  the  sweetness  of  the  sin,  but  terrified  at  its  perils. 


294:  THE   FLIGHT. 

Every  moment  increased  the  danger  of  discovery.  A  distant 
tramp  was  heard.  "  The  patrols  are  walking  their  rounds,"  cried 
the  renegado ;  "  if  we  linger,  we  perish.  Princess,  descend  in 
stantly,  or  we  leave  you." 

Zorahayda  was  for  a  moment  in  fearful  agitation ;  then  loosen- 
ing the  ladder  of  ropes,  with  desperate  resolution,  she  flung  it 
from  the  balcony. 

"  It  is  decided  !"  cried  she ;  "  flight  is  now  out  of  my  powei  1 
Allah  guide  and  bless  ye,  my  dear  sisters  !" 

The  two  eldest  princesses  were  shocked  at  the  thoughts  of 
leaving  her  behind,  and  would  fain  have  lingered,  but  the  patrol 
was  advancing ;  the  renegado  was  furious,  and  they  were 
hurried  away  to  the  subterraneous  passage.  They  groped  their 
way  through  a  fearful  labyrinth,  cut  through  the  heart  of  the 
mountain,  and  succeeded  in  reaching,  undiscovered,  an  iron  gate 
that  opened  outside  of  the  walls.  The  Spanish  cavaliers  were 
waiting  to  receive  them,  disguised  as  Moorish  soldiers  of  the 
guard,  commanded  by  the  renegado. 

The  lover  of  Zorahayda  was  frantic,  when  he  learned  that  she 
had  refused  to  leave  the  tower ;  but  there  was  no  time  to  waste 
in  lamentations.  The  two  princesses  were  placed  behind  their 
lovers,  the  discreet  Kadiga  mounted  behind  the  renegado,  and 
they  all  set  off  at  a  round  pace  in  the  direction  of  the  Pass  of 
Lope,  which  leads  through  the  mountains  towards  Cordova. 

They  had  not  proceeded  far  when  they  heard  the  noise  of 
drums  and  trumpets  from  the  battlements  of  the  Alhambra. 

"  Our  flight  is  discovered  !"  said  the  renegado. 

':  We  have  fleet  steeds,  the  night  is  dark,  and  we  may  distance 
ail  pursuit,"  replied  the  cavaliers. 

They  put  spurs  to  their  horses,  and  scoured  across  the  Vega. 


THE   FLIGHT.  295 

They  attained  the  foot  of  the  mountain  of  Elvira,  which  stretches 
like  a  promontory  into  the  plain.  The  renegade  paused  and 
listened.  "  As  yet,"  said  he,  "  there  is  no  one  on  our  traces,  we 
shall  make  good  our  escape  to  the  mountains."  While  he  spoke, 
a  light  blaze  sprang  up  on  the  top  of  the  watchtowcr  of  the 
Alhambra. 

"  Confusion  !"  cried  the  renegade,  "  that  bale  fire  will  put  all 
the  guards  of  the  passes  on  the  alert.  Away  !  away  !  Spur  like 
mad, — there  is  no  time  to  be  lost." 

Away  they  dashed — the  clattering  of  their  horses'  hoofs 
echoed  from  rock  to  rock,  as  they  swept  along  the  road  that 
skirts  the  rocky  mountain  of  Elvira.  As  they  galloped  on,  the 
bale  fire  of  the  Alhambra  was  answered  in  every  direction ;  light 
after  light  blazed  on  the  Atalayas,  or  watchtowers  of  the 
mountains. 

"  Forward  !  forward  !"  cried  the  renegado,  with  many  an  oath, 
"to  the  bridge, — to  the  bridge,  before  the  alarm  has  reached 
there !" 

They  doubled  the  promontory  of  the  mountains,  and  arrived 
in  sight  of  the  famous  Bridge  of  Pinos,  that  crosses  a  rush- 
ing stream  often  dyed  with  Christian  and  Moslem  blood.  To 
their  confusion,  the  tower  on  the  bridge  blazed  with  lights  and 
glittered  with  armed  men,  The  renegado  pulled  up  his  steed, 
rose  in  his  stirrups  and  looked  about  him  for  a  moment ;  then 
beckoning  to  the  cavaliers,  he  struck  off  from  the  road,  skirted 
the  river  for  some  distance,  and  dashed  into  its  waters.  The 
cavaliers  called  upon  the  princesses  to  cling  to  them,  and  did  the 
flame.  They  were  borne  for  some  distance  down  the  rapid 
current,  the  surges  roared  round  them,  but  the  beautiful  prin- 
cesses clung  to  their  Christian  knights,  and  never  uttered  u 


296  THE   FATE   OF   KADIGA. 

complaint.  The  cavaliers  attained  the  opposite  "bank  in  safely, 
and  were  conducted  by  the  renegado,  by  rude  and  unfrequented 
paths  and  wild  barrancos,  through  the  heart  of  the  mountains, 
so  as  to  avoid  all  the  regular  passes.  In  a  word,  they  succeeded 
in  leaching  the  ancient  city  of  Cordova ;  where  their  restoration 
o  their  country  and  friends  was  celebrated  with  great  rejoicings, 
for  they  were  of  the  noblest  families.  The  beautiful  princesses 
were  forthwith  received  into  the  bosom  of  the  Church,  and,  after 
being  in  all  due  form  made  regular  Christians,  were  rendered 
happy  wives. 

In  our  hurry  to  make  good  the  escape  of  the  princesses 
across  the  river,  and  up  the  mountains,  we  forgot  to  mention  the 
fate  of  the  discreet  Kadiga.  She  had  clung  like  a  cat  to  Hussein 
Baba  in  the  scamper  across  the  Vega,  screaming  at  every  bound, 
and  drawing  many  an  oath  from  the  whiskered  renegado ;  but 
when  he  prepared  to  plunge  his  steed  into  the  river,  her  terror 
knew  no  bounds.  "Grasp  me  not  so  tightly,"  cried  Hussein 
Baba ;  "  hold  on  by  my  belt  and  fear  nothing."  She  held  firmly 
with  both  hands  by  the  leathern  belt  that  girded  the  broad- 
backed  renegado ;  but  when  he  halted  with  the  cavaliers  to  take 
breath  on  the  mountain  summit,  the  duenna  was  no  longer  to  bo 
seen. 

"What  has  become  of  Kadiga?"  cried  the  princesses  in 
alarm. 

"  Allah  alone  knows  !"  replied  the  renegado ;  "  my  belt  camo 
loose  when  in  the  midst  of  the  river,  and  Kadiga  was  swept  with 
it  down  the  stream.  The  will  of  Allah  be  done  !  but  it  was  au 
embroidered  belt,  and  of  great  price." 

There  was  no  time  to  waste  in  idle  regrets ;  yet  bitterly  did 
the  princesses  bewail  the  loss  of  their  discreet  sounsellor.  That 


FATE   OF  KADIGA.  297 

excellent  old  woman,  however,  did  not  lose  more  than  half  of  her 
nine  lives  in  the  water :  a  fisherman,  who  was  drawing  his  nets 
some  distance  down  the  stream,  brought  her  to  land,  and  was  not 
a  little  astonished  at  his  miraculous  draught.  What  further 
became  of  the  discreet  Kadiga,  the  legend  does  not  mention; 
certain  it  is  that  she  evinced  her  discretion  in  never  venturing 
within  the  reach  of  Mohamed  the  Left-handed. 

Almost  as  little  is  known  of  the  conduct  of  that  sagacious 
monarch  when  he  discovered  the  escape  of  his  daughters,  and  tho 
deceit  practised  upon  him  by  the  most  faithful  of  servants.  It, 
was  the  only  instance  in  which  he  had  called  in  the  aid  of  counsel, 
and  he  was  never  afterwards  known  to  be  guilty  of  a  similar 
weakness.  He  took  good  care,  however,  to  guard  his  remaining 
daughter,  who  had  no  disposition  to  elope :  it  is  thought,  indeed, 
that  she  secretly  repented  having  remained  behind:  now  and 
then  she  was  seen  leaning  on  the  battlements  of  the  tower,  and 
looking  mournfully  towards  the  -mountains  in  the  direction  of 
Cordova,  and  sometimes  the  notes  of  her  lute  were  heard  accom- 
panying plaintive  ditties,  in  which  she  was  said  to  lament  the  loss 
of  her  sisters  and  her  lover,  and  to  bewail  her  solitary  life.  She 
died  young,  and,  according  to  popular  rumor,  was  buried  in  a 
vault  beneath  the  tower,  and  her  untimely  fate  has  given  rise  to 
more  than  one  traditionary  fable. 


The  following  legend,  which  seems  in  sonic  measure  to  spring 
out  of  the  foregoing  story,  is  too  closely  connected  with  high 


298  IMPROBABLE  TRUTHS. 

historic  names  to  be  entirely  doubted.  The  Count's  daughter, 
and  some  of  her  young  companions,  to  whom  it  was  read  in  one 
of  the  evening  tertullias,  thought  certain  parts  of  it  had  much 
appearance  of  reality ;  and  Dolores,  who  was  much  more  versed 
than  they  in  the  improbable  truths  of  the  Alhambra,  believed 
every  word  of  it. 


LEGEND  OF  THE  ROSE  OF  THE  ALHAMBRA. 

FOR  some  time  after  the  surrender  of  Granada  by  the  Moors,  that 
delightful  city  was  a  frequent  and  favorite  residence  of  the 
Spanish  sovereigns,  until  they  were  frightened  away  by  succes- 
sive shocks  of  earthquakes,  which  toppled  down  various  houses, 
and  made  the  old  Moslem  towers  rock  to  their  foundation. 

Many,  many  years  then  rolled  away,  during  which  Granada 
was  rarely  honored  by  a  royal  guest.  The  palaces  of  the  nobility 
remained  silent  and  shut  up ;  and  the  Alhambra,  like  a  slighted 
beauty,  sat  in  mournful  desolation,  among  her  neglected  gardens. 
The  tower  of  the  Infantas,  once  the  residence  of  the  three  beau- 
tiful Moorish  princesses,  partook  of  the  general  desolation ; 
the  spider  spun  her  web  athwart  the  gilded  vault,  and  bats  and 
owls  nestled  in  those  chambers  that  had  been  graced  by  the  pre- 
sence of  Zayda,  Zorayda,  and  Zorahayda.  The  neglect  of  this 
tower  may  partly  have  been  owing  to  some  superstitious  notions 
of  the  neighbors.  It  was  rumored  that  the  spirit  of  the  youth- 
ful Zorahayda,  who  had  perished  in  that  tower,  was  often  seen  by 
moonlight  seated  beside  the  fountain  in  the  hall,  or  moaning 
about  the  battlements,  and  that  the  notes  of  her  silver  lute 
would  be  heard  at  midnight  by  wayfarers  passing  along  the 
glen. 


300  A   COURT    TAGE. 

At  length  the  city  of  Granada  was  once  more  welcomed  by 
the  royal  presence.  All  the  world  knows  that  Philip  V.  was  the 
first  Bourbon  that  swayed  the  Spanish  sceptre.  All  the  world 
knows  that  he  married,  in  second  nuptials,  Elizabetta  or  Isabella 
(for  they  are  the  same),  the  beautiful  princess  of  Parma ;  and  all 
the  world  knows  that  by  this  chain  of  contingencies  a  French 
prince  and  an  Italian  princess  were  seated  together  on  the  Span- 
ish throne.  For  a  visit  of  this  illustrious  pair,  the  Alham- 
bra  was  repaired  and  fitted  up  with  all  possible  expedition.  The 
arrival  of  the  court  changed  the  whole  aspect  of  the  lately  de- 
serted palace.  The  clangor  of  drum  and  trumpet,  the  tramp  of 
steed  about  the  avenues  and  outer  court,  the  glitter  of  arms  and 
display  of  banners  about  barbican  and  battlement,  recalled  the 
ancient  and  warlike  glories  of  the  fortress.  A  softer  spirit,  how- 
ever, reigned  within  the  royal  palace.  There  was  the  rustling  of 
robes  and  the  cautious  tread  and  murmuring  voice  of  reverential 
courtiers  about  the  antechambers  ;  a  loitering  of  pages  and  maids 
of  honor  about  the  gardens,  and  the  sound  of  music  stealing 
from  open  casements. 

Among  those  who  attended  in  the  train  of  the  monarchs  was 
a  favorite  page  of  the  queen,  named  Ruyz  de  Alarcon.  To  say 
that  he  was  a  favorite  page  of  the  queen  was  at  once  to  speak  his 
eulogium,  for  every  one  in  the  suite  of  the  stately  Elizabetta  was 
chosen  for  grace,  and  beauty,  and  accomplishments.  He  was 
just  turned  of  eighteen,  light  and  lithe  of  form,  and  graceful  as 
a  young  Antinous.  To  the  queen  he  was  all  deference  and  re- 
spect, yet  he  was  at  heart  a  roguish  stripling,  petted  and  spoiled 
by  the  ladiee  about  the  court,  and  experienced  in  the  ways  of 
women  far  beyond  his  years. 

This  loitering  page  was    one  morning  rambling  about  the 


THE   TRUANT   FALCON.  301 

groves  of  the  Generalife,  which  overlook  the  grounds  of  the  Al- 
hambra.  He  had  taken  with  him  for  his  amusement  a  favorite 
ger-faleon  of  the  queen.  In  the  course  of  his  rambles,  seeing  a 
bird  rising  from  a  thicket,  he  unhooded  the  hawk  and  let  him 
fly.  The  falcon  towered  high  in  the  air,  made  a  swoop  at  his 
quarry,  but  missing  it,  soared  away,  regardless  of  the  calls  of  the 
page.  The  latter  followed  the  truant  bird  with  his  eye.  in  its 
capricious  flight,  until  he  saw  it  alight  upon  the  battlements  of 
a  remote  and  lonely  tower,  in  the  outer  wall  of  the  Alhambra, 
built  on  the  edge  of  a  ravine  that  separated  the  royal  fortress 
from  the  grounds  of  the  Generalife.  It  was  in  fact  the  "  Tower 
of  the  Princesses." 

The  page  descended  into  the  ravine  and  approached  the  tower, 
but  it  had  no  entrance  from  the  glen,  and  its  lofty  height  ren- 
dered any  attempt  to  scale  it  fruitless.  Seeking  one  of  the  gates 
of  the  fortress,  therefore,  he  made  a  wide  circuit  to  that  side  of 
the  tower  facing  within  the  walls. 

A  small  garden,  inclosed  by  a  trellis-work  of  reeds  overhung 
with  myrtle,  lay  before  the  tower.  Opening  a  wicket,  the  page 
passed  between  beds  of  flowers  and  thickets  of  roses  to  the  door. 
It  was  closed  and  bolted.  A  crevice  in  the  door  gave  him  a  peep 
into  the  interior.  There  was  a  small  Moorish  hall  with  fretted 
walls,  light  marble  columns,  and  an  alabaster  fountain  surround- 
ed with  flowers.  In  the  centre  hung  a  gilt  cage  containing  a 
singing  bird,  beneath  it,  on  a  chair,  lay  a  tortoise-shell  cat  among 
reels  of  silk  and  other  articles  of  female  labor,  and  a  guitar  de- 
corated with  ribbons  leaned  against  the  fountain. 

Ruyz  de  Alarcon  was  struck  with  these  traces  of  female  taste 
and  elegance  in  a  lonely,  and,  as  he  had  supposed,  deserted  tower. 
They  reminded  him  of  the  tales  of  6nchanted  halls  current  in  thu 
13*  • 


302  THE  FAIRY  OF  THE  TOWEK. 

Alhambra ;  and  the  tortoiseshell  cat  might  be  some  spell-bound 
princess. 

He  knocked  gently  at  the  door.  A  beautiful  face  peeped  out 
from  a  little  window  above,  but  was  instantly  withdrawn.  He 
waited,  expecting  that  the  door  would  be  opened,  but  he  waited 
in  vain ;  no  footstep  was  to  be  heard  within — all  was  silent. 
Had  his  senses  deceived  him,  or  was  this  beautiful  apparition 
the  fairy  of  the  tower?  He  knocked  again,  and  more  loudly. 
After  a  little  while  the  beaming  face  once  more  peeped  forth  ;  it 
was  that  of  a  blooming  damsel  of  fifteen. 

The  page  immediately  doffed  his  plumed  bonnet,  and  entreat- 
ed in  the  most  courteous  accents  to  be  permitted  to  ascend  the 
tower  in  pursuit  of  his  falcon. 

"  I  dare  not  open  the  door,  Senor,'  replied  the  little  damsel, 
blushing,  "  my  aunt  has  forbidden  it." 

"  I  do  beseech  you,  fair  maid — it  is  the  favorite  falcon  of  the 
queen  :  I  dare  not  return  to  the  palace  without  it.55 

"  Are  you  then  one  of  the  cavaliers  of  the  court  ?" 

"  I  am,  fair  maid ;  but  I  shall  lose  the  queen's  favor  and  my 
place,  if  I  lose  this  hawk." 

"  Santa  Maria  !  It  is  against  you  cavaliers  of  the  courfc  my 
aunt  has  charged  me  especially  to  bar  the  door." 

"  Against  wicked  cavaliers  doubtless,  but  I  am  none  of  these, 
but  a  simple  harmless  page,  who  will  be  ruined  and  undone  if 
you  deny  me  this  small  request." 

The  heart  of  the  little  damsel  was  touched  by  the  distress  of 
the  page.  It  was  a  thousand  pities  he  should  be  ruined  for  the 
want  of  so  trifling  a  boon.  Surely  too  he  could  not  be  one  of 
those  dangerous  beings  whom  her  aunt  had  described  as  a  species 
of  cannibal,  ever  on  the  prowl  to  make  prey  of  thoughtless  dura« 


THE   CAPITULATION.  303 

eels  ;  he  was  gentle  and  modest,  and  stood  so  entreatingly  with 
cap  in  hand,  and  looked  so  charming. 

The  sly  page  saw  that  the  garrison  began  to  waver,  and  re- 
doubled his  entreaties  in  such  moving  terms  that  it  was  not  ID 
the  nature  of  mortal  maiden  to  deny  him  ;  so  the  blushing  little 
warden  of  the  tower  descended,  and  opened  the  door  with  a 
trembling  hand,  and  if  the  page  had  been  charmed  by  a  mere 
glimpse  of  her  countenance  from  the  window,  he  was  ravished  by 
the  full  length  portrait  now  revealed  to  him. 

Her  Andalusian  bodice  and  trim  basquina  set  off  the  round 
but  delicate  -symmetry  of  her  form,  which  was  as  yet  scarce  verg- 
ing into  womanhood.  Her  glossy  hair  was  parted  on  her  forehead 
with  scrupulous  exactness,  and  decorated  with  a  fresh  plucked 
rose,  according  to  the  universal  custom  of  the  country.  It  is  true 
her  complexion  was  tinged  by  the  ardor  of  a  southern  sun,  but  it 
served  to  give  richness  to  the  mantling  bloom  of  her  cheek,  and 
to  heighten  the  lustre  of  her  melting  eyes. 

Ruyz  de  Alarcon  beheld  all  this  with  a  single  glance,  for  it 
became  him  not  to  tarry ;  he  merely  murmured  his  acknowledg- 
ments, and  then  bounded  lightly  up  the  spiral  staircase  in  quest 
of  his  falcon 

He  soon  returned  with  the  truant  bird  upon  his  fist.  The 
damsel,  in  the  mean  time,  had  seated  herself  by  the  fountain  in 
the  hall,  and  was  winding  silk  ;  but  in  her  agitation  she  let  fall 
the  reel  upon  the  pavement.  The  page  sprang  and  picked  it  up, 
then  dropping  gracefully  on  one  knee,  presented  it  to  her ;  but, 
seizing  the  hand  extended  to  receive  it,  imprinted  on  it  a  kiss 
more  fervent  and  devout  than  he  had  ever  imprinted  on  tho  fair 
hand  of  his  sovereign. 

*  Ave  Maria.  Senor !"  exclaimed  the  damsel,  blushing  still 


304:  THE    EMBARRASSMENT, 

deeper  with  confusion  and  surprise,  for  never  before  had  she  re- 
ceived such  a  salutation. 

The  modest  page  made  a  thousand  apologies,  assuring  her  it 
was  the  way,  at  court,  of  expressing  the  most  profound  homage 
and  respect 

Her  anger,  if  anger  she  felt,  was  easily  jpacified,  but  her  agita- 
tion and  embarrassment  continued,  and  she  sat  blushing  deeper 
and  deeper,  with  her  eyes  cast  down  upon  her  work,  entangling 
the  silk  which  she  attempted  to  wind. 

The  cunning  page  saw  the  confusion  in  the  opposite  camp,  and 
would  fain  have  profited  by  it,  but  the  fine  speeches  he  would  have 
uttered  died  upon  his  lips  ;  his  attempts  at  gallantry  were  awk- 
ward and  ineffectual ;  and  to  his  surprise,  the  adroit  page,  who 
had  figured  with  such  grace  and  effrontery  among  the  most  know- 
ing and  experienced  ladies  of  the  court,  found  himself  awed  and 
abashed  in  the  presence  of  a  simple  damsel  of  fifteen. 

In  fact,  the  artless  maiden,  in  her  own  modesty  and  innocence, 
had  guardians  more  effectual  than  the  bolts  and  bars  prescribed 
by  her  vigilant  aunt.  Still,  where  is  the  female  bosom  proof 
against  the  first  whisperings  of  love  ?  The  little  damsel,  with  all 
her  artlessness,  instinctively  comprehended  all  that  the  faltering 
tongue  of  the  page  failed  to  express,  and  her  heart  was  fluttered  at 
beholding,  for  the  first  time,  a  lover  at  her  feet — and  such  a  lover ! 

The  diflidence  of  the  page,  though  genuine,  was  short-lived, 
and  he  was  recovering  his  usual  ease  and  confidence,  when  a  shrill 
voice  was  heard  at  a  distance. 

"  My  aunt  is  returning  from  mass  !"  cried  the  damsel  in 
affright :  "  I  pray  you,  Senor,  depart." 

"  Not  until  you  grant  me  that  rose  from  your  hair  as  a  re- 
membrance.v 


'THE  VIGILANT  ATJNT.  305 

She  hastily  untwisted  the  rose  from  her  raven  locks.  "  Take 
it,';  cried  she,  agitated  and  blushing,  "  but  pray  begone." 

The  page  took  the  rose,  and  at  the  same  time  covered  with 
kisses  the  fair  hand  that  gave  it.  Then,  placing  the  flower  in  his 
bonnet,  and  taking  the  falcon  upon  his  fist,  he  bounded  off  through 
he  garden,  bearing  away  with  him  the  heart  of  the  gentle  Jacinta. 

When  the  vigilant  aunt  arrived  at  the  tower,  she  remarked  the 
agitation  of  her  niece,  and  an  air  of  confusion  in  the  hall ;  but  a 
word  of  explanation  sufficed.  k'  A  ger-falcon  had  pursued  his 
prey  into  the  hall." 

"  Mercy  on  us  !  to  think  of  a  falcon  flying  into  the  tower.  Did 
ever  one  hear  of  so  saucy  a  hawk  ?  Why,  the  very  bird  in  the 
cage  is  not  safe  !" 

The  vigilant  Fredegonda  was  one  of  the  most  wary  of  ancient 
spinsters.  She  had  a  becoming  terror  and  distrust  of  what  she 
denominated  "  the  opposite  sex,"  which  had  gradually  increased 
through  a  long  life  of  celibacy.  Not  that  the  good  lady  had  ever 
suffered  from  their  wiles,  nature  having  set  up  a  safeguard  in  her 
face  that  forbade  all  trespass  upon  her  premises  j  but  ladies  who 
have  least  cause  to  fear  for  themselves  are  most  ready  to  keep  a 
watch  over  their  more  tempting  neighbors. 

The  niece  was  the  orphan  of  an  officer  who  had  fallen  in  the 
wars.  She  had  been  educated  in  a  convent,  and  had  recently 
been  transferred  from  her  sacred  asylum  to  the  immediate  guar- 
dianship of  her  aunt,  under  whose  overshadowing  care  she  veg- 
etated in  obscurity,  like  an  opening  rose  blooming  beneath  a 
brier.  Nor  indeed  is  this  comparison  entirely  accidental ;  for,  to 
tell  the  truth,  her  fresh  and  dawning  beauty  had  caught  the  pub- 
lic eye,  even  in  her  seclusion,  and,  with  that  poetical  turn  com- 
mon to  the  people  of  Andalusia,  the  peasantry  of  the  neighbor- 


306  MOONLIGHT    SEKEXADES. 

hood  had  given  her  the  appellation  of  "  the  Hose  of  the  Albany 
bra," 

The  wary  aunt  continued  to  keep  a  faithful  watch  over  her 
tempting  little  niecs  as  long  as  the  court  continued  at  Granada, 
and  flattered  herself  that  her  vigilance  had  been  successful.  Ifc 
is  true,  the  good  lady  was  now  and  then  discomposed  by  the 
tinkling  of  guitars  and  chanting  of  love  ditties  from  the  moonlit 
groves  beneath  the  tower ;  but  she  would  exhort  her  niece  to  shut 
her  ears  against  such  idle  minstrelsy,  assuring  her  that  it  was  one 
of  the  arts  of  the  opposite  sex,  by  which  simple  maids  were  often 
lured  to  their  undoing.  Alas  !  what  chance  with  a  simple  maid 
has  a  dry  lecture  against  a  moonlight  serenade  ? 

At  length  king  Philip  cut  short  his  sojourn  at  Granada,  and 
suddenly  departed  with  all  his  train.  The  vigilant  Fredegonda 
watched  the  royal  pageant  as  it  issued  forth  from  the  Gate  of 
Justice,  and  descended  the  great  avenue  leading  to  the  city. 
When  the  last  banner  disappeared  from  her  sight,  she  returned 
exulting  to  her  tower,  for  all  her  cares  were  over.  To  her  sur- 
prise, a  light  Arabian  steed  pawed  the  ground  at  the  wicket-gate 
of  the  garden : — to  her  horror,  she  saw  through  the  thickets  of 
roses  a"  youth,  in  gayly-embroidered  dress,  at  the  feet  of  her 
niece.  At  the  sound  of  her  footsteps  he  gave  a  tender  adieu, 
bounded  lightly  over  the  barrier  of  reeds  and  myrtles,  sprang 
upon  his  horse,  and  was  out  of  sight  in  an  instant. 

The  tender  Jacinta,  in  the  agony  of  her  grief,  lost  all  thought 
of  her  aunt's  displeasure.  Throwing  herself  into  her  arms,  she 
broke  forth  into  sobs  and  tears. 

"  Ay  de  mi !"  cried  she ;  "  he's  gone  ! — he's  gone! — he's  gone  I 
and  I  shall  never  see  him  more  !" 

"  Gone  ! — who  is  gone  ? — what  youth  is  that  I  saw  ut  your 
feet?" 


THE  FOKSAKEN   MAID.  307 

"  A  queen's  page,  aunt,  who  came  to  bid  me  farewell." 

l'  A  queen's  page,  child !"  echoed  the  vigilant  Fredegonda, 
faintly  .  "  and  when  did  you  become  acquainted  with  the  queen's 
page?" 

"  The  morning  that  the  ger-falcon  came  into  the  tower.  It 
was  the  queen's  ger-falcon,  and  he  came  in  pursuit  of  it." 

"  Ah  silly,  silly  girl !  know  that  there  are  no  ger-falcons  half 
BO  dangerous  as  these  young  prankling  pages,  and  it  is  precisely 
Huch  simple  birds'  as  thee  that  they  pounce  upon." 

The  aunt  was  at  first  indignant  at  learning  that  in  despite  of 
her  boasted  vigilance,  a  tender  intercourse  had  been  carried  on 
by  the  youthful  lovers,  almost  beneath  her  eye ;  but  when  she 
found  that  her  simple-hearted  niece,  though  thus  exposed,  without 
the  protection  of  bolt  or  bar,  to  all  the  machinations  of  the  oppo- 
site sex,  had  come  forth  unsinged  from  the  fiery  ordeal,  she  con- 
soled herself  with  the  persuasion  that  it  was  owing  to  the  chaste 
and  cautious  maxims  in  which  she  had,  as  it  were,  steeped  her  to 
the  very  lips. 

While  the  aunt  laid  this  soothing  unction  to  her  pride,  the 
niece  treasured  up  the  oft-repeated  vows  of  fidelity  of  the  page. 
But  what  is  the  love  of  restless,  roving  man  ?  A  vagrant  stream 
that  dallies  for  a  time  with  each  flower  upon  its  bank,  then  passes 
on,  and  leaves  them  all  in  tears. 

Days,  weeks,  months  clasped,  and  nothing  more  was  heard  of 
the  page.  The  pomegranate  ripened,  the  vine  yielded  up  its 
fruit,  the  autumnal  rains  descended  in  torrents  from  the  moun- 
tains ;  the  Sierra  Nevada  became  covered  with  a  snowy  mantle, 
and  wintry  blasts  howled  through  the  halls  of  the  Alhambra — 
fltill  he  came  not.  The  winter  passed  away.  Again  the  genial 
spring  burst  forth  with  song  and  blossom  and  balmy  zephyr;  the 


308  THE  FOKSAKEN  MAID. 

snows  melted  from  the  mountains,  until  none  remained  but  OB 
the  lofty  summit  of  Nevada,  glistening  through  the  sultry 
summer  air.  Still  nothing  was  heard  of  the  forgetful  page. 

In  the  mean  time,  the  poor  little  Jacinta  grew  pale  and 
thoughtful.  Her  former  occupations  and  amusements  were 
abandoned,  her  silk  lay  entangled,  her  guitar  unstrung,  her 
flowers  were  neglected,  the  notes  of  her  bird  unheeded,  and  her 
eyes,  once  so  bright,  were  dimmed  with  secret  weeping.  If  any 
solitude  could  be  devised  to  foster  the  passibn  of  a  love-lorn 
damsel,  it  would  be  such  a  place  as  the  Alhambra,  where  every 
thing  seems  disposed  to  produce  tender  and  romantic  reveries. 
It  is  a  very  paradise  for  lovers :  how  hard  then  to  be  alone  in 
such  a  paradise — and  not  merely  alone,  but  forsaken  ! 

"  Alas,  silly  child  !"  would  the  staid  and  immaculate  Frede- 
gonda  say,  when  she  found  her  niece  in  one  of  her  desponding 
moods — -'  did  I  not  warn  thee  against  the  wiles  and  deceptions 
of  these  men  ?  What  couldst  thou  expect,  too,  from  one  of  a 
haughty  and  aspiring  family — thou  an  orphan,  the  descendant  of 
a  fallen  and  impoverished  line  ?  Be  assured,  if  the  youth  were 
true,  his  father,  who  is  one  of  the  proudest  nobles  about  the 
court,  would  prohibit  his  union  with  one  so  humble  and  por- 
tionless as  thou.  Pluck  up  thy  resolution,  therefore,  and  drive 
these  idle  notions  from  thy  mind." 

The  words  of  the  immaculate  Fredegonda  only  served  to  in- 
crease the  melancholy  of  her  niece,  but  she  sought  to  indulge  it 
in  private.  At  a  late  hour  o*ne  midsummer  night,  after  her  aunt 
had  retired  to  rest,  she  remained  alone  in  the  hall  of  the  tower, 
Boated  beside  the  alabaster  fountain.  It  was  here  that  the  faith- 
less page  had  first  knelt  and  kissed  her  hand ;  it  was  here  that  he 
Lad  often  vowed  eternal  fidelity.  The  poor  little  damsel's  heart 


THE   SPIRIT  OF  THE   FOUNTAIN.  309 

was  overladen  with  sad  and  tender  recollections,  her  tears  began 
to  flow,  and  slowly  fell  drop  by  drop  into  the  fountain.  By 
degrees  the  crystal  water  became  agitated,  and — bubble — bubble 
— bubble — boiled  up  and  was  tossed  about,  until  a  female  figure, 
richly  clad  in  Moorish  robes,  slowly  rose  to  view. 

Jacinta  was  so  frightened  that  she  fled  from  the  hall,  and  did 
Hot  venture  to  return.  The  next  morning  she  related  what  sho 
had  seen  to  her  aunt,  but  the  good  lady  treated  it  as  a  phantasy 
of  her  troubled  mind,  or  supposed  she  had  fallen  asleep  and 
dreamt  beside  the  fountain.  '•«  Thou  hast  been  thinking  of  the 
story  of  the  three  Moorish  princesses  that  once  inhabited  this 
tower,"  continued  she,  "  and  it  has  entered  into  thy  dreams." 

"  What  story,  aunt?     I  know  nothing  of  it." 

"  Thou  hast  certainly  heard  of  the  three  princesses,  Zayda, 
Zorayda,  and  Zorahayda,  who  were  confined  in  this  tower  by  the 
king  their  father,  and  agreed  to  fly  with  three  Christian  cavaliers. 
The  two  first  accomplished  their  escape,  but  the  third  failed  in 
her  resolution,  and,  it  is  said,  died  in  this  tower." 

"  I  now  recollect  to  have  heard  of  it,"  said  Jacinta,  "  and  to 
have  wept  over  the  fate  of  the  gentle  Zorahayda." 

"  Thou  mayest  well  weep  over  her  fate,"  continued  the  aunt, 
"for  the  lover  of  Zorahayda  was  thy  ancestor.  He  long  be- 
moaned his  Moorish  love  ;  but  time  cured  him  of  his  grief,  and 
he  married  a  Spanish  lady,  from  whom  thou  art  descended." 

Jacinta  ruminated  upon  these  words.  "  That  what  I  have 
seen  is  no  phantasy  of  the  brain,"  said  she  to  herself,  "  I  am  con 
fident.  If  indeed  it  be  the  spirit  of  the  gentle  Zorahayda,  which 
I  have  heard  lingers  about  this  tower,  of  what  should  I  be 
afraid  ?  I'll  watch  by  the  fountain  to-night — perhaps  the  visit 
will  be  repeated." 


310  THE   SPIEIT   OF  THE  FOUNTAIN. 

Towards  midnight,  .when  every  thing  was  quiet,  she  agaiu 
took  her  seat  in  the  hall.  As  the  bell  in  the  distant  watchtower 
of  the  Alhambra  struck  the  midnight  hour,  the  fountain  was 
again  agitated  ;  and  bubble — bubble — bubble — it  tossed  about 
the  waters  until  the  Moorish  female  again  rose  to  view.  She 
was  young  and  beautiful ;  her  dress  was  rich  with  jewels,  and  in 
her  hand  she  held  a  silver  lute.  Jacinta  trembled  and  was  faint, 
but  was  reasured  by  the  soft  and  plaintive  voice  of  the  apparition, 
and  the  sweet  expression  of  her  pale,  melancholy  countenance. 

"  Daughter  of  mortality,"  said  she,  "  what  aileth  thee  ?  Why 
do  thy  tears  trouble  my  fountain,  and  thy  sighs  and  plaints 
disturb  the  quiet  watches  of  the  night  ?" 

"  I  weep  because  of  the  faithlessness  of  man,  and  I  bemoan 
iny  solitary  and  forsaken  state." 

"  Take  comfort ;  thy  sorrows  may  yet  have  an  end.  Thou 
beholdest  a  Moorish  princess,  who,  like  thee,  was  unhappy  in  her 
love.  A  Christian  knight,  thy  ancestor,  won  my  heart,  and  would 
have  borne  me  to  his  native  land  and  to  the  bosom  of  his  church. 
I  was  a  convert  in  my  heart,  but  I  lacked  courage  equal  to  my 
faith,  and  lingered  till  too  late.  For  this  the  evil  genii  are  per- 
mitted to  have  power  over  me,  and  I  remain  enchanted  in  this 
tower  until  some  pure  Christian  will  deign  to  break  the  magio 
spell.  Wilt  thou  undertake  the  task  ?" 

"  I  will,"  replied  the  damsel,  trembling. 

"  Come  hither  then,  and  fear  not ;  dip  thy  hand  in  the  foun- 
tain, sprinkle  the  water  over  me,  and  baptize  me  after  the  manner 
of  thy  faith ;  so  shall  *the  enchantment  be  dispelled,  and  my 
troubled  spirit  have  repose." 

The  damsel  advanced  with  faltering  steps,  dipped  her  hand 
in  the  fountain,  collected  water  in  the  palm,  and  sprinkled  it  over 
the  pale  face  of  the  phantom. 


THE    SJIATEK   LTJTE.  311 

The  latter  smiled  with  ineffable  benignity.  She  dropped  her 
nilver  lute  at  the  feet  of  Jacinta,  crossed  her  white  arms  upon 
her  bosom,  and  melted  from  sight,  so  that  it  seemed  merely  a^  if 
a  shower  of  dew-drops  had  fallen  into  the  fountain. 

Jacinta  retired  from  the  hall  filled  with  awe  and  wonder. 
She  scarcely  closed  her  eyes  that  night ;  but  when  she  awoke  at 
daybreak  out  of  a  troubled  slumber,  the  whole  appeared  to  her 
like  a  distempered  dream.  On  decending  into  the  hall,  however, 
the  truth  of  the  vision  was  established,  for,  beside  the  fountain, 
she  beheld  the  silver  lute  glittering  in  the  morning  sunshine. 

She  hastened  to  her  aunt,  to  relate  all  that  had  befallen  her, 
and  called  her  to  behold  the  lute  as  a  testimonial  of  the  reality 
of  her  story.  If  the  good  lady  had  any  lingering  doubts,  they 
were  removed  when  Jacinta  touched  the  instrument,  for  she  drew 
forth  such  ravishing  tones  as  to  thaw  even  the  frigid  bosom  of 
the  immaculate  Fredegonda,  that  region  of  eternal  winter,  into  a 
genial  flow.  Nothing  but  supernatural  melody  could  have  pro- 
duced such  an  effect. 

The  extraordinary  power  of  the  lute  became  every  day  more 
and  more  apparent.  The  wayfarer  passing  by  the  tower  was 
detained,  and,  as  it  were,  spell-bound,  in  breathless  ecstasy.  The 
very  birds  gathered  in  the  neighboring  trees,  and  hushing  their 
own  strains,  listened  in  charmed  silence. 

Rumor  soon  spread  the  news  abroad.  The  inhabitants  of 
Granada  thronged  to  the  Alhambra  to  catch  a  few  notes  of  the 
transcendent  music  that  floated  about  the  tower  of  Las  Infantas. 

The  lovely  little  minstrel  was  at  length  drawn  forth  from  her 

retreat.      The  rich  and   powerful  of  the  land   contended  who 

thould  entertain  and  do  honor  to  her;   or  rather,  who  should 

ccurc  the  charms  of  her  lute  to  draw  fashionable  throngs  to 


312  ROYAL  MEGRIMS. 

their  saloons.  Wherever  she  went  her  vigilant  aunt  kept  a 
dragon  watch  at  her  elbow,  awing  the  throngs  of  impassioned 
admirers,  who  hung  in  raptures  on  her  strains.  The  report  of 
her  wonderful  powers  spread  from  city  to  city.  Malaga,  Seville, 
Cordova,  all  became  successively  mad  on  the  theme ;  nothing  was 
talked  of  throughout  Andalusia  but  the  beautiful  minstrel  of  the 
Alhambra.  How  could  it  be  otherwise  among  a  people  so  musical 
and  gallant  as  the  Andalusians,  when  the  lute  was  magical  in  its 
powers,  and  the  minstrel  inspired  by  love ! 

While  all  Andalusia  was  thus  music  mad,  a  different  mood 
prevailed  at  the  court  of  Spain.  Philip  V.,  as  is  well  known, 
was  a  miserable  hypochondriac,  and  subject  to  all  kinds  of 
fancies.  Sometimes  he  would  keep  to  his  bed  for  weeks  together, 
groaning  under  imaginary  complaints.  At  other  times  he  would 
insist  upon  abdicating  his  throne,  to  the  great  annoyance  of  his 
royal  spouse,  who  had  a  strong  relish  for  the  splendors  of  a  court 
and  the  glories  of  a  crown,  and  guided  the  sceptre  of  her  imbecile 
lord  with  an  expert  and  steady  hand. 

Nothing  was  found  to  be  so  efficacious  in  dispelling  the  royal 
megrims  as  the  power  of  music ;  the  queen  took  care,  therefore, 
to  have  the  best  performers,  both  vocal  and  instrumental,  at 
hand,  and  retained  the  famous  Italian  singer  Farinelli  about  the 
court  as  a  kind  of  royal  physician. 

At  the  moment  we  treat  of,  however,  a  freak  had  come  over 
the  mind  of  this  sapient  and  illustrious  Bourbon  that  surpassed 
all  former  vagaries.  After  a  long  spell  of  imaginary  illness., 
which  set  all  the  strains  of  Farinelli  and  the  consulations  of  a 
whole  orchestra  of  court  fiddlers  at  defiance,  the  monarch  fairly, 
in  idea,  gave  up  the  ghost,  and  considered  himself  absolutely 
dead. 


THE   FEMALE   MINSTREL.  313 

This  would  have  been  harmless  enough,  and  even  convenient 
both  to  bis  queen  and  courtiers,  had  he  been  content  to  remain 
in  the  quietude  befitting  a  dead  man  ;  but  to  their  annoyance  he 
insisted  upon  having  the  funeral  ceremonies  performed  over  him, 
and,  to  their  inexpressible  perplexity,  began  to  grow  impatient^ 
and  to  revile  bitterly  at  them  for  negligence  and  disrespect,  in 
leaving  him  unburied.  What  was  to  be  done  ?  To  disobey  tho 
king's  positive  commands  was  monstrous  in  the  eyes  of  the  obse- 
quious courtiers  of  a  punctilious  court — but  to  obey  him,  and 
bury  him  alivo  would  be  downright  regicide  ! 

In  the  midst  of  this  fearful  dilemma  a  rumor  reached  the 
court,  of  the  female  minstrel  who  was  turning  the  brains  of  all 
Andalusia.  The  queen  dispatched  missions  in  all  haste  to  sum- 
mon her  to  St.  Ildefonso,  where  the  court  at  that  time  resided. 

Within  a  few  days,  as  the  queen  with  her  maids  of  honor  was 
walking  in  those  stately  gardens,  intended,  with  their  avenues 
and  terraces  and  fountains,  to  eclipse  the  glories  of  Versailles, 
the  far-famed  minstrel  was  conducted  into  her  presence.  The 
imperial  Elizabetta  gazed  with  surprise  at  the  youthful  and 
unpretending  appearance  of  the  little  being  that  had  set  tho 
world  madding.  She  was  in  her  picturesque  Andalusian  dress, 
her  silver  lute  in  hand,  and  stood  with  modest  and  downcast 
eyes,  but  with  a  simplicity  and  freshness  of  beauty  that  still 
bespoke  her  "  the  Rose  of  the  Alhambra." 

As  usual  she  was  accompanied  by  the  ever-vigilant  Frede- 
gonda,  who  gave  the  whole  history  of  her  parentage  and  descent 
to  the  inquiring  queen.  If  the  stately  Elizabetta  had  been  inte- 
rested by  the  appearance  of  Jacinta,  she  was  still  more  pleased 
when  she  learnt  that  she  was  of  a  meritorious  though  impovcr 
ished  line,  and  that  her  father  had  bravely  fallen  in  the  service 
14 


314:  THE   WOULD-BE-BUKIED   MONAECH. 

of  the  crown.  "  If  thy  powers  equal  their  renown,"  said  she, 
"  and  thou  canst  cast  forth  this  evil  spirit  that  possesses  thy 
sovereign,  thy  fortunes  shall  henceforth  be  my  care,  and  honors 
and  wealth  attend  thee." 

Impatient  to  make  trial  of  her  skill,  she  led  the  way  at  once 
to  the  apartment  of  the  moody  monarch. 

Jacinta  followed  with  downcast  eyes  through  files  of  guards 
and  crowds  of  courtiers.  They  arrived  at  length  at  a  great 
chamber  hung  with  black.  The  windows  were  closed  to  exclude 
the  light  of  day :  a  number  of  yellow  wax  tapers  in  silver  sconces 
diffused  a  lugubrious  light,  and  dimly  revealed  the  figures  of 
mutes  in  mourning  dresses,  and  courtiers  who  glided  about  with 
noiseless  step  and  woebegone  visage.  In  the  midst  of  a  funeral 
bed  or  bier,  his  hands  folded  on  his  breast,  and  the  tip  of  his 
nose  just  visible,  lay  extended  this  would-be-buried  monarch. 

The  queen  entered  the  chamber  in  silence,  and  pointing  to  a 
footstool  in  an  obscure  corner,  beckoned  to  Jacinta  to  sit  down 
and  commence. 

At  first  she  touched  her  lute  with  a  faltering  hand,  but  gath- 
ering confidence  and  animation  as  she  proceeded,  drew  forth  such 
soft  aerial  harmony,  that  all  present  could  scarce  believe  it  mor- 
tal. As  to  the  monarch,  who  had  already  considered  himself  in 
the  world  of  spirits,  he  set  it  down  for  some  angelic  melody  or 
the  music  of  the  spheres.  By  degrees  the  theme  was  varied, 
and  the  voice  of  the  minstrel  accompanied  the  instrument.  She 
poured  forth  one  of  the  legendary  ballads  treating  of  the  ancient 
glories  of  the  Alhambra  and  the  achievements  of  the  Moors. 
Her  whole  soul  entered  into  the  theme,  for  with  the  recollections 
of  the  Alhambra  was  associated  the  story  of  her  love-  The 
funeral  chamber  resounded  with  the  animating  strain.  It 


THE   TRIUMPH   OF   MUSIC.  315 

entered  into  the  gloomy  heart  of  the  monarch.  He  raised  his 
head  and  gazed  around :  he  sat  up  on  his  couch,  his  eye  began 
to  kindle — at  length,  leaping  upon  the  floor,  he  called  for  sword 
and  buckler. 

The  triumph  of  music,  or  rather  of  the  enchanted  lute,  was 
complete ;  the  demon  of  melancholy  was  cast  forth ;  and,  as  it 
were,  a  dead  man  brought  to  life.  The  windows  of  the  apart- 
ment were  thrown  open  ;  the  glorious  effulgence  of  Spanish  sun- 
shine burst  into  the  late  lugubrious  chamber ;  all  eyes  sought 
the  lovely  enchantress,  but  the  lute  had  fallen  from  her  hand, 
she  had  sunk  upon  the  earth,  and  the  next  moment  was  clasped 
to  the  bosom  of  Ruyz  de  Alarcon. 

The  nuptials  of  the  happy  couple  were  celebrated  soon  after- 
wards with  great  splendor,  and  the  Rose  of  the  Alhambra  became 
the  ornament  and  delight  of  the  court.  "  But  hold — not  so  fast" 
— I  hear  the  reader  exclaim,  "  this  is  jumping  to  the  end  of  a 
story  at  a  furious  rate !  First  let  us  know  how  Ruyz  de  Alarcon 
managed  to  account  to  Jacinta  for  his  long  neglect  ?"  Nothing 
more  easy  ;  the  venerable,  time-honored  excuse,  the  opposition  to 
his  wishes  by  a  proud,  pragmatical  old  father :  besides,  young  peo- 
ple, who  really  like  one  another,  soon  come  to  an  amicable  under- 
standing, and  bury  all  past  grievances  when  once  they  meet. 

But  how  was  the  proud  pragmatical  old  father  reconciled  to 
the  match  ? 

*  Oh  !  as  to  that,  his  scruples  were  easily  overcome  by  a  word 
or  two  from  the  queen ;  especially  as  dignities  and  rewards  were 
showered  upon  the  blooming  favorite  of  royalty.  Besides,  the 
lute  of  Jacinta.  you  know,  possessed  a  magic  power,  and  coulcl 
control  the  most  stubborn  head  and  hardest  breast. 

And  what  came  of  the  enchanted  lute? 


316  THE  FIDDLE  OF  PAGANINI. 

O  that  is  the  most  curious  matter  of  all,  and  plainly  proves 
the  truth  of  the  whole  story.  That  lute  remained  for  some  time 
in  the  family,  but  was  purloined  and  carried  off,  as  was  supposed, 
by  the  great  singer  Farinelli,  in  pure  jealousy.  At  his  death  it 
passed  into  other  hands  in  Italy,  who  were  ignorant  of  its  mystic 
powers,  and  melting  down  the  silver,  transferred  the  strings  to 
an  old  Cremona  fiddle.  The  strings  still  retain  something  of 
their  magic  virtues.  A  word  in  the  reader's  ear,  but  let  it  go  no 
further — that  fiddle  is  now  bewitching  the  whole  world — it  in  the 
fiddle  of  Paganini ! 


THE  VETERAN. 

AMONG  the  curious  acquaintances  I  made  in  ray  rambles  about 
the  fortress,  was  a  brave  and  battered  old  colonel  of  Invalids,  who 
was  nestled  like  a  hawk  in  one  of  the  Moorish  towers.  His  his-" 
tory,  which  he  was  fond  of  telling,  was  a  tissue  of  those  adventures, 
mishaps,  and  vicissitudes  that  render  the  life  of  almost  every 
Spaniard  of  note  as  varied  and  whimsical  as  the  pages  of  Gil 
Bias. 

He  was  in  America  at  twelve  years  of  age,  and  reckoned  among 
the  most  signal  and  fortunate  events  of  his  life,  his  having  seen 
General  Washington.  Since  then  he  had  taken  a  part  in  all  the 
wars  of  his  country  ;  he  could  speak  experimentally  of  most  of  the 
prisons  and  dungeons  of  the  Peninsula ;  had  been  lamed  of  one 
leg,  crippled  in  his  hands,  and  so  cut  up  and  carbonadoed  that  he 
was  a  kind  of  walking  monument  of  the  troubles  of  Spain,  on  which 
there  was  a  scar  for  every  battle  and  broil,  as  every  year  of  captivi- 
ty was  notched  upon  the  tree  of  Robinson  Cousoe.  The  greatest 
misfortune  of  the  brave  old  cavalier,  however,  appeared  to  havo 
been  his  having  commanded  at  Malaga  during  a  time  of  peril  and 
confusion,  and  been  made  a  general  by  the  inhabitants,  to  protect 
them  from  the  invasion  of  the  French.  This  had  entailed  upon 
him  a  number  of  just  claims  upon  government,  that  I  feared  would 


318  THE   VETEEAN. 

employ  him  until  his  dying  day  in  writing  and  printing  petitions 
and  memorials,  to  the  great  disquiet  of  his  mind,  exhaustion  of 
his  purse,  and  penance  of  his  friends  ;  not  one  of  whom  could  yisit 
him  without  having  to  listen  to  a  mortal  document  of  half  an  hour 
in  length,  and  to  carry  away  half  a  dozen  pamphlets  in  his  pocket. 
This,  however,  is  the  case  throughout  Spain ;  every  where  you 
meet  with  some  worthy  wight  brooding  in  a  corner,  and  nursing 
up  some  pet  grievance  and  cherished  wrong.  Besides,  a  Spaniard 
who  has  a  lawsuit,  or  a  claim  upon  government,  may  be  con- 
sidered as  furnished  with  employment  for  the  remainder  of  hia 
life. 

I  visited  the  veteran  in  his  quarters  in  the  upper  part  of  the 
Torre  del  Vino,  or  Wine  Tower.  His  room  was  small  but  snug, 
and  commanded  a  beautiful  view  of  the  Vega.  It  was  arranged 
with  a  soldier's  precision.  Three  muskets  and  a  brace  of  pistols. 
all  bright  and  shining,  were  suspended  against  the  wall,  with  a 
sabre  and  a  cane  hanging  side  by  side,  and  above  them,  two 
cocked  hats,  one  for  parade,  and  one  for  ordinary  use.  A  small 
shelf,  containing  some  half  dozen  books,  formed  his  library,  one 
of  which,  a  little  old  mouldy  volume  of  philosophical  maxims,  was 
his  favorite  reading.  This  he  thumbed  and  pondered  over  day 
by  day ;  applying  every  maxim  to  his  own  particular  case,  pro- 
vided it  had  a  little  tinge  of  wholesome  bitterness,  and  treated  of 
the  injustice  of  the  world. 

Yet  he  was  social  and  kind-hearted,  and  provided  he  could  be 
diverted  from  his  wrongs  and  his  philosophy,  was  an  entertaining 
companion.  I  like  these  old  weather-beaten  sons  of  fortune,  and 
enjoy  their  rough  campaigning  anecdotes.  In  the  course  of  my 
visits  to  the  one  in  question,  I  learnt  some  curious  facts  about  an 
old  military  commander  of  the  fortress,  who  seems  to  have  re- 


THE  VETERAN.  319 

gembled  him  in  some  respects,  and  to  have  had  similar  fortunes 
in  the  wars.  These  particulars  have  been  augmented  by  inquiries 
among  some  of  the  old  inhabitants  of  the  place,  particularly  the 
father  of  Mateo  Ximenes,  of  whose  traditional  stories  the  worthy 
I  am  about  to  introduce  to  the  reader,  was  a  favorite  hero. 


THE  GOVERNOR  AND  THE  NOTARY. 

let  former  times  there  ruled,  as  governor  of  the  Alhambra,  a 
doughty  old  cavalier,  who,  from  having  lost  one  arm  in  the  wars, 
was  commonly  known  by  the  name  of  el  Gobernador  Manco,  or 
"the  one-armed  governor."  He  in  fact  prided  himself  upon 
being  an  old  soldier,  wore  his  mustaches  curled  up  to  his  eyes,  a 
pair  of  campaigning  boots,  and  a  toledo  as  long  as  a  spit,  with  hia 
pocket  handkerchief  in  the  basket-hilt. 

He  was,  moreover,  exceedingly  proud  and  punctilious,  and 
tenacious  of  all  his  privileges  and  dignities.  Under  his  sway  the 
immunities  of  the  Alhambra,  as  a  royal  residence  and  domain, 
were  rigidly  exacted.  No  one  was  permitted  to  enter  the  for- 
tress with  firearms,  or  even  with  a  sword  or  staff,  unless  he  were 
of  a  certain  rank ;  and  every  horseman  was  obliged  to  dismount 
at  the  gate,  and  lead  his  horse  by  the  bridle.  Now  as  the  hill  of 
the  Alhambra  rises  from  the  very  midst  of  the  city  of  Granada, 
being,  as  it  were,  an  excrescence  of  the  capital,  it  must  at  all 
times  be  somewhat  irksome  to  the  captain-general,  who  commands 
the  province,  to  have  thus  an  imperium  in  imperio,  a  petty  inde- 
pendent post  in  the  very  centre  of  his  domains.  It  was  rendered 
the  more  galling,  in  the  present  instance,  from  the  irritable  jeal- 
ousy of  the  old  governor,  that  took  fire  on  the  least  question  of 


KIVAL   POTENTATES.  321 

authority  and  jurisdiction ;  and  from  the  loose  vagrant  character 
of  the  people  who  had  gradually  nestled  themselves  within  the 
fortress,  as  in  a  sanctuary,  and  thence  carried  on  a  system  of 
roguery  and  depredation  at  the  expense  of  the  honeM  inhabit- 
ants of  the  city. 

Thus  there  was  a  perpetual  feud  and  heart-burning  between 
the  captain-general  and  the  governor,  the  more  virulent  on  the 
part  of  the  latter,  jnasmuch  as  the  smallest  of  two  neighboring 
potentates  is  always  the  most  captious  about  his  dignity.  The 
stately  palace  of  the  captain-general  stood  in  the  Plaza  Nueva, 
immediately  at  the  foot  of  the  hill  of  the  Alhambra,  and  here 
was  always  a  bustle  and  parade  of  guards,  and  domestics,  and 
city  functionaries.  A  beetling  bastion  of  the  fortress  overlooked 
the  palace  and  public  square  in  front  of  it ;  and  on  this  bastion 
the  old  governor  would  occasionally  strut  backwards  and  for- 
wards, with  his  toledo  girded  by  his  side,  keeping  a  wary  eye 
down  upon  his  rival,  like  a  hawk  reconnoitering  his  quarry  from  his 
nest  in  a  dry  tree. 

Whenever  he  descended  into  the  city  it  was  in  grand  parade, 
on  horseback,  surrounded  by  his  guards,  or  in  his  state  coach,  an 
ancient  and  unwieldy  Spanish  edifice  of  carved  timber  and  gilt 
leather,  drawn  by  eight  mules,  with  running  footmen,  outriders, 
and  lackeys ;  on  which  occasions  he  flattered  himself  he  impress- 
ed every  beholder  with  awe  and  admiration  as  vicegerent  of  the 
king ;  though  the  wits  of  Granada,  particularly  those  who  loitered 
about  the  palace  of  the  captain-general,  were  apt  to  sneer  at  his 
petty  parade,  and  in  allusion  to  the  vagrant  character  of  his  sub- 
jects, to  greet  him  with  the  appellation  of  "  the  king  of  the  beg- 
gars." One  of  the  most  fruitful  sources  of  dispute  between  these 
two  doughty  rivals  was  the  right  claimed  by  the  governor  to 
14* 


322  A  QUESTION  OF  EIGHT. 

have  all  things  passed  free  of  duty  through  the  city,  that  were 
intended  for  the  use  of  himself  or  his  garrison.  By  degrees 
this  privilege  had  given  rise  to  extensive  smuggling.  A  nest  of 
eontrabaridistas  took  up  their  abode  in  the  hovels  of  the  fortress, 
and  the  numerous  caves  in  its  vicinity,  and  drove  a  thriving 
business  under  the  connivance  of  the  soldiers  of  the  garrison. 

The  vigilance  of  the  captain-general  was  aroused.  He  con- 
sulted his  legal  adviser  and  factotum,  a  shrewd  meddlesome 
escribano,  or  notary,  who  rejoiced  in  an  opportunity  of  perplex- 
ing the  old  potentate  of  the  Alhambra,  and  involving  him  in  a 
maze  of  legal  subtilties.  He  advised  the  captain-general  to  in- 
sist upon  the  right  of  examining  every  convoy  passing  through 
the  gates  of  his  city,  and  penned  a  long  letter  for  him  in  vin- 
dication of  the  right.  Governor  Manco  was  a  straightforward 
cut-and-thrust  old  soldier,  who  hated  an  escribano  worse  than 
the  devil,  and  this  one  in  particular  worse  than  all  other  escri- 
banos. 

"  What !"  said  he,  curling  up  his  mustaches  fiercely,  "  does 
the  captain-general  set  his  man  of  the  pen  to  practise  confusions 
upon  me  ?  I'll  let  him  see  an  old  soldier  is  not  to  be  baffled  by 
echooleraft." 

He  seized  his  pen  and  scrawled  a  short  letter  in  a  crabbed 
hand,  in  which,  without  deigning  to  enter  into  argument,  he  in- 
sisted on  the  right  of  transit  free  of  search,  and  denounced  ven- 
geance on  any  custom-house  officer  who  should  lay  his  unhallow- 
ed hand  on  any  convoy  protected  by  the  flag  of  the  Alhambra. 
While  this  question  was  agitated  between  the  two  pragmatical 
potentates,  it  so  happened  that  a  mule  laden  with  supplies  for  the 
fortress  arrived  one  day  at  the  gate  of  Xenil,  by  which  it  was  to 
traverse  a  suburb  of  the  city  on  its  way  to  the  Alhambra.  The 


THE   KUSTY   COKPOEAL.  323 

convoy  was  headed  by  a  testy  old  corporal,  who  had  long  served 
under  the  governor,  and  was  a  man  after  his  own  heart ;  as  rusty 
and  stanch  as  an  old  Toledo  blade. 

As  they  approached  the  gate  of  the  city,  the  corporal  placed 
the  banner  of  the  Alhambra  on  the  pack-saddle  of  the  mule, 
and  drawing  himself  up  to  a  perfect  perpendicular,  advanced  with 
his  head  dressed  to  the  front,  but  with  the  wary  side-glance  of 
a  cur  passing  through  hostile  ground,  and  ready  for  a  snap  and 
a  snarL 

"  Who  goes  there  ?"  said  the  sentinel  at  the  gate. 

"  Soldier  of  the  Alhambra !"  said  the  corporal,  without  turn- 
ing his  head. 

"  What  have  you  in  charge  ?" 

"  Provisions  for  the  garrison." 

«  Proceed." 

The  corporal  marched  straight  forward,  followed  by  the  con- 
voy, but  had  not  advanced  many  paces  before  a  posse  of  custom- 
house officers  rushed  out  of  a  small  toll-house. 

"  Hallo  there  !"  cried  the  leader ;  "  Muleteer,  halt,  and  open 
those  packages." 

The  corporal  wheeled  round,  and  drew  himself  up  in  battle 
array.  "  .Respect  the  flag  of  the  Alhambra,"  said  he ;  "  these 
things  are  for  the  governor." 

"  A  figo  for  the  governor,  and  a  figo  for  his  flag.  Muleteer, 
halt,  I  say." 

•K  Stop  the  convoy  at  your  peril !"  cried  the  corporal,  cocking 
his  musket;  "Muleteer,  proceed." 

The  muleteer  gave  his  beast  a  hearty  thwack ;  the  custom- 
house officer  sprang  forward  and  seized  the  halter;  whereupon 
the  corporal  levelled  his  piece,  and  shot  him  dead. 


324:  LEGAL   TILTING. 

The  street  was  immediately  in  an  uproar. 

The  old  corporal  was  seized,  and  after  undergoing  sundry 
kicks,  and  cuffs,  and  cudgellings,  which  are  generally  given  im- 
promptu by  the  mob  in  Spain,  as  a  foretaste  of  the  after  penal- 
ties of  the  law,  he  was  loaded  with  irons,  and  conducted  to  the 
city  prison  ;  while  his  comrades  were  permitted  to  proceed  with 
the  convoy,  after  it  had  been  well  rummaged,  to  the  Alhambra. 

The  old  governor  was  in  a  towering  passion  when  he  heard 
of  this  insult  to  his  flag  and  capture  of  his  corporal.  For  a 
time  he  stormed  about  the  Moorish  halls,  and  vapored  about 
the  bastions,  and  looked  down  fire  and  sword  upon  the  palace 
of  the  captain-general.  Having  vented  the  first  ebullition  of 
his  wrath,  he  dispatched  a  message  demanding  the  surrender 
of  the  corporal,  as  to  him  alone  belonged  the  right  of  sitting  in 
judgment  on  the  offences  of  those  under  his  command.  The  cap- 
tain-general, aided  by  the  pen  of  the  delighted  escribano,  replied 
at  great  length,  arguing  that  as  the  offence  had  been  committed 
within  the  walls  of  his  city,  and  against  one  of  his  civil  officers, 
it  was -clearly  within  his  proper  jurisdiction.  The  governor  re- 
joined by  a  repetition  of  his  demand  ;  the  captain-general  gave 
a  sur-rejoinder  of  still  greater  length  and  legal  acumen ;  the 
governor  became  hotter  and  more  peremptory  in  his  demands, 
and  the  captain-general  cooler  and  more  copious  in  his  replies ; 
until  the  old  lion-hearted  soldier  absolutely  roared  with  fury  at 
being  thus  entangled  in  the  meshes  of  legal  controversy. 

While  the  subtle  escribano  was  thus  amusing  himself  at  the 
expense  of  the  governor,  he  was  conducting  the  trial  of  the  cor- 
poral, who,  mewed  up  in  a  narrow  dungeon  of  the  prison,  had 
merely  a  small  grated  window  at  which  to  show  his  iron-bound 
visage  and  receive  the  consolations  of  his  friends. 


THINGS   IN  EXTREMITY.  325 

A  mountain  of  written  testimony  was  diligently  heaped  up, 
according  to  Spanish  form,  by  the  indefatigable  escribano ;  the 
corporal  was  completely  overwhelmed  by  it.  He  was  convicted 
of  murder,  and  sentenced  to  be  hanged. 

It  was  in  vain  the  governor  sent  down  remonstrance  and 
menace  from  the  Alhambra.  The  fatal  day  was  at  hand,  and  the 
corporal  was  put  in  capilla,  that  is  to  say,  in  the  chapel  of  the 
prison,  as  is  always  done  with  culprits  the  day  before  execution, 
that  they  may  meditate  on  their  approaching  end  and  repent 
them  of  their  sins. 

Seeing  things  drawing  to  extremity,  the  old  governor  de- 
termined to  attend  to  the  affair  in  person.  For  this  purpose 
he  ordered  out  his  carriage  of  state,  and,  surrounded  by  his 
guards,  rumbled  down  the  avenue  of  the  Alhambra  into  the 
city.  Driving  to  the  house  of  the  escribano,  he  summoned  him 
to  the  portal. 

The  eye  of  the  old  governor  gleamed  like  a  coal  at  beholding 
the  smirking  man  of  the  law  advancing  with  an  air  of  exulta- 
tion. 

"  What  is  this  I  hear,"  cried  he,  « that  you  are  about  to  put 
to  death  one  of  my  soldiers  ?" 

"  All  according  to  law — all  in  strict  form  of  justice,"  said 
the  self-sufficient  escribano,  chuckling  and  rubbing  his  hands. 
"  I  can  show  your  excellency  the  written  testimony  in  the  case.11 

"  Eetch  it  hither,"  said  the  governor.  The  escrijmno  bustled 
into  his  office,  delighted  with  having  another  opportunity  of 
displaying  his  ingenuity  at  the  expense  of  the  hard-headed  ve- 
teran 

He  returned  with  a  satchel  full  of  papers,  and  began  to  read 
a.  long  deposition  with  professional  volubility.  By  this  tiiw*  a 
14* 


326  THE    KIVAL    GIBBETS. 

crowd  had  collected,  listening  with  outstretched  necks  and  gaping 
mouths. 

"Prithee,  man,  get  into  the  carriage,  out  of  this  pestilent 
throng,  that  I  may  the  better  hear  thee,"  said  the  governor. 

The  escribano  entered  the  carriage,  when,  in  a  twinkling,  the 
door  was  closed,  the  coachman  smacked  his  whip — mules,  carriage, 
guards  and  all  dashed  off  at  a  thundering  rate,  leaving  the  crowd 
in  gaping  wonderment;  nor  did  the  governor  pause  until  he 
had  lodged  his  prey  in  one  of  the  strongest  dungeons  of  the 
Alhambra. 

He  then  sent  down  a  flag  of  truce  in  military  style,  proposing 
a  cartel  or  exchange  of  prisoners — the  corporal  for  the  notary. 
The  pride  of  the  captain-general  was  piqued ;  he  returned  a  con- 
temptuous refusal,  and  forthwith  caused  a  gallows,  tall  and 
strong,  to  be  erected  in  the  centre  of  the  Plaza  Nueva  for  the 
execution  of  the  corporal. 

"  Oho  !  is  that  the  game  ?"  said  Governor  Manco.  He  gave 
orders,  and  immediately  a  gibbet  was  reared  on  the  verge  of  the 
great  beetling  bastion  that  overlooked  the  Plaza.  "  Now,"  said 
he  in  a  message  to  the  captain-general,  "  hang  my  soldier  when 
you  please ;  but  at  the  same  time  that  he  is  swung  off  in  the 
square,  look  up  to  see  your  escribano  dangling  against  the  sky." 

The  captain-general  was  inflexible ;  troops  were  paraded  in 
the  square ;  the  drums  beat,  the  bell  tolled.  An  immense  multi- 
tude of  amateurs  gathered  together  to  behold  the  execution.  On 
the  other  hand,  the  governor  paraded  his  garrison  on"  the  bastion, 
and  tolled  the  funeral  dirge  of  the  notary  from  the  Torre  de  la 
Campana,  or  Tower  of  the  Bell. 

The  notary's  wife  pressed  through  the  crowd  with  a  whole 
progeny  of  little  embryo  escribanos  at  her  heels,  and  throwing 


PARTING   ADVICE.  327 

herself  at  the  feet  of  the  captain-general,  implored  him  not  to 
sacrifice  the  life  of  her  husband,  and  the  welfare  of  herself  and 
her  numerous  little  ones,  to  a  point  of  pride ;  "  for  you  know  the 
old  governor  too  well,"  said  she,  "  to  doubt  that  he  will  put  his 
threat  in  execution,  if  you  hang  the  soldier." 

The  captain-general  was  overpowered  by  her  tears  and  lamen- 
tations, and  the  clamors  of  her  callow  brood.  The  corporal  was 
sent  up  to  the  Alhambra,  under  a  guard,  in  his  gallows  garb,  like 
a  hooded  friar,  but  with  head  erect  and  a  face  of  iron.  The 
escribano  was  demanded  in  exchange,  according  to  the  cartel. 
The  once  bustling  and  self-sufficient  man  of  the  law  was  drawn 
forth  from  his  dungeon  more  dead  than  alive.  All  his  flippancy 
and  conceit  had  evaporated ;  his  hair,  it  is  said,  had  nearly  turn- 
ed gray  with  affright,  and  he  had  a  downcast,  dogged  look,  as  if 
he  still  felt  the  halter  round  his  neck. 

The  old  governor  stuck  his  one  arm  a-kimbo,  and  for  a 
moment  surveyed  him  with  an  iron  smile.  "Henceforth,  my 
friend,"  said  he,  "  moderate  your  zeal  in  hurrying  others  to  the 
gallows ;  be  not  too  certain  of  your-  safety,  even  though  you 
should  have  the  law  on  your  side ;  and  above  all  take  care  how 
you  play  off  your  schoolcraft  another  time  upon  an  old  soldier." 


GOVERNOR  MANGO  AND  THE  SOLDIER. 

WHILE  Governor  Manco,  or  "  the  one-armed,"  kept  up  a  show  of 
military  state  in  the  Alhambra,  he  became  nettled  at  the  re- 
proaches continually  cast  upon  his  fortress,  of  being  a  nestling 
place  of  rogues  and  contrabandistas.  On  a  sudden,  the  old  poten- 
tate determined  on  reform,  and  setting  vigorously  to  work,  ejected 
whole  nests  of  vagabonds  out  of  the  fortress  and  the  gipsy  caves 
with  which  the  surrounding  hills  are  honeycombed.  He  sent  out 
soldiers,  also,  to  patrol  the  avenues  and  footpaths,  with  orders  to 
take  up  all  suspicious  persons. 

One  bright  summer  morning,  a  patrol,  consisting  of  the  testy 
old  corporal  who  had  distinguished  himself  in  the  affair  of  the 
notary,  a  trumpeter  and  two  privates,  was  seated  under  the  garden 
wall  of  the  Generalife,  beside  the  road  which  leads  down  from  the 
mountain  of  the  sun,  when  they  heard  the  tramp  of  a  horse,  and 
a  male  voice  singing  in  rough,  though  not  unmusical  tones,  an  old 
Castilian  campaigning  song. 

Presently  they  beheld  a  sturdy,  sunburnt  fellow,  clad  in  the 
ragged  garb  of  a  foot-soldier,  leading  a  powerful  Arabian  horse, 
caparisoned  in  the  ancient  Moresco  fashion. 

Astonished  at  the  sight  of  a  strange  soldier  descending,  steed 
in  hand,  from  that  solitary  mountain,  the  corporal  stepped  fortl' 
and  challenged  him. 


THE   SOLDIER   AND  THE   PATROL.  329 

«  Who  goes  there  ?" 

«  A  friend.' 

"  Who  and  what  are  you  ?" 

44  A  poor  soldier  just  from  the  wars,  with  a  cracked  crown  and 
empty  purse  for  a  reward." 

By  this  time  they  were  enabled  to  view  him  more  narrowly. 
Ho  had  a  black  patch  across  his  forehead,  which,  with  a  grizzled 
beard,  added  to  a  certain  dare-devil  cast  of  countenance,  while  a 
slight  squint  threw  into  the  whole  an  occasional  gleam  of  roguish 
good  humor. 

Having  answered  the  questions  of  the  patrol,  the  soldier 
seemed  to  consider  himself  entitled  to  make  others  in  return. 
"  May  I  ask,"  said  he,  "  what  city  is  that  which  I  see  at  the  foot 
of  the  hill?" 

"  What  city !"  cried  the  trumpeter ;  "  come,  that's  too  bad. 
Here's  a  fellow  lurking  about  the  mountain  of  the  sun,  and 
demands  the  name  of  the  great  city  of  Granada  !" 

"  Granada  !     Madre  di  Dios  !  can  it  be  possible  ?" 

"Perhaps  not!"  rejoined  the  trumpeter ;  "and  perhaps  you 
have  no  idea  that  yonder  are  the  towers  of  the  Alhambra." 

"  Son  of  a  trumpet,"  replied  the  stranger,  "  do  not  trifle  with 
nie  ;  if  this  be  indeed  the  Alhambra,  I  have  some  strange  matters 
to  reveal  to  the  governor." 

"  You  will  have  an  opportunity,"  said  the  corporal,  "  for  we 
mean  to  take  you  before  him."  By  this  time  the  trumpeter  had 
seized  the  bridle  of  the  steed,  the  two  privates  had  each  secured 
an  arm  of  the  soldier,  the  corporal  put  himself  in  front,  gave  the 
word,  "  Forward — march  !"  and  away  they  marched  for  the  Al- 
hambra. 

The  sight  of  a  ragged  foot-soldier  and  a  fine  Arabian  horse 


330  THE    GOVERNOR    IN    SLIPPEKS. 

brought  in  captive  by  the  patrol,  attracted  the  attention  of  all 
the  idlers  of  the  fortress,  and  of  those  gossip  groups  that  gener- 
ally assemble  about  wells  and  fountains  at  early  dawn.  The 
wheel  of  the  cistern  paused  in  its  rotations,  and  the  slipshod 
servant-inaid  stood  gaping,  with  pitcher  in  hand,  as  the  corporal 
passed  by  with  his  prize.  A  motley  train  gradually  gathered  in 
the  rear  of  the  escort. 

Knowing  nods  and  winks  and  conjectures  passed  from  one  to 
another.  "  It  is  a  deserter,"  said  one  ;  "  A  contrabandist^"  said 
another ;  "  A  bandalero,"  said  a  third  ; — until  it  was  affirmed 
that  a  captain  of  a  desperate  band  of  robbers  had  been  captured 
by  the  prowess  of  the  corporal  and  his  patrol.  u  Well,  well,"  said 
the  old  crones,  one  to  another,  "  captain  or  not,  let  him  get  out 
of  the  grasp  of  old  Governor  Manco  if  he  can,  though  he  is  but 
one-handed." 

Governor  Manco  was  seated  in  one  of  the  inner  halls  of  the 
Alhambra,  taking  his  morning's  cup  of  chocolate  in  company 
with  his  confessor,  a  fat  Franciscan  friar,  from  the  neighboring 
convent.  A  demure,  dark-eyed  damsel  of  Malaga,  the  daughter 
(of  his  housekeeper,  was  attending  upon  him.  The  world  hinted 
that  the  damsel,  who,  with  all  her  demureness,  was  a  sly  buxom 
baggage,  had  found  out  a  soft  spot  in  the  iron  heart  of  the  old 
governor,  and  held  complete  control  over  him.  But  let  that  pass 
— the  domestic  affairs  of  these  mighty  potentates  of  the  earth 
should  not  be  too  narrowly  scrutinized. 

When  word  was  brought  that  a  suspicious  stranger  had  been 
taken  lurking  about  the  fortress,  and  was  actually  in  the  outer 
court,  in  durance  of  the  corporal,  waiting  the  pleasure  of  his 
excellency,  the  pride  and  stateliness  of  office  swelled  the  bosom 
of  the  governor.  Giving  back  his  chocolate  cup  into  the  hands 


THE  GOVERNOR  IN  COUKT.  331 

of  the  demure  damsel,  he  called  for  his  basket-hilted  sword, 
girded  it  to  his  side,  twirled  up  his  mustaches,  took  his  seat  in 
a  large  high-backed  chair,  assumed  a  bitter  and  forbidding  aspect, 
and  ordered  the  prisoner  into  his  presence.  The  soldier  was 
brought  in,  still  closely  pinioned  by  his  captors,  and  guarded  b 
the  corporal.  He  maintained,  however,  a  resolute  self  confident* 
air,  and  returned  the  sharp,  scrutinizing  look  of  the  governor 
with  an  easy  squint,  which  by  no  means  pleased  the  punctilious 
old  potentate. 

"  Well,  culprit,"  said  the  governor,  after  he  had  regarded 
him  for  a  moment  in  silence,  "  what  have  you  to  say  for  your- 
self— who  are  you  ?" 

"A  soldier,  just  from  the  wars,  who  has  brought  away  no- 
thing but  scars  and  bruises." 

"  A  soldier — humph — a  foot-soldier  by  your  garb.  I  under- 
stand you  have  a  fine  Arabian  horse.  I  presume  you  brought 
him  too  from  the  wars,  besides  your  scars  and  bruises." 

"  May  it  please  your  excellency,  I  have  something  strange  to 
tell  about  that  horse.  Indeed  I  have  one  of  the  most  wonderful 
things  to  relate.  Something  too  that  concerns  the  security  of 
this  fortress,  indeed  of  all  Granada.  But  it  is  a  matter  to  be 
imparted  only  to  your  private  ear,  or  in  presence  of  such  only  as 
are  in  your  confidence." 

The  governor  considered  for  a  moment,  and  then  directed 
the  corporal  and  his  men  to  withdraw,  but  to  post  themselves 
outside  of  the  door,  and  be  ready  at  a  call.  "  This  holy  friar," 
said  he,  "  is  my  confessor,  you  may  say  any  thing  in  his  presence 
— and  this  damsel,"  nodding  towards  the  handmaid,  who  had 
loitered  with  an  air  of  great  curiosity,  "  this  damsel  is  of  great 
secrecy  and  discretion,  and  to  be  trusted  with  any  thing." 


332 

The  soldier  gave  a  glance  between  a  squint  and  a  leer  at  the 
demure  handmaid.  "  I  am  perfectly  willing,"  said  he,  "  that  the 
damsel  should  remain." 

When  all  the  rest  had  withdrawn,  the  soldier  commenced  his 
story.  He  was  a  fluent,  smooth-tongued  varlet,  and  had  a  com- 
mand of  language  above  his  apparent  rank. 

"  May  it  please  your  excellency,"  said  he,  "  I  am,  as  I  before 
observed,  a  soldier,  and  have  seen  some  hard  service,  but  my 
term  of  enlistment  being  expired,  I  was  discharged,  not  long 
since,  from  the  army  at  Yalladolid,  and  set  out  on  foot  for  my 
native  village  in  Andalusia.  Yesterday  evening  the  sun  went 
down  as  I  was  traversing  a  great  dry  plain  of  Old  Castile.' 

"  Hold,"  cried  the  governor,  "  what  is  this  you  say  ?  Old 
Castile  is  some  two  or  three  hundred  miles  from  this." 

"  Even  so,"  replied  the  soldier,  coolly ;  "  I  told  your  excel- 
lency I  had  strange  things  to  relate  ;  but  not  more  strange  than 
true  ;  as  your  excellency  will  find,  if  you  will  deign  me  a  patient 
hearing." 

"  Proceed,  culprit,"  said  the  governor,  twirling  up  his  mus- 
taches. 

"  As  the  sun  went  down,"  continued  the  soldier,  ".  I  cast  my 
eyes  about  in  search  of  quarters  for  the  night,  but  as  far  as 
my  sight  could  reach,  there  were  no  signs  of  habitation.  I  saw 
that  I  should  have  to  make  my  bed  on  the  naked  plain,  with  my 
knapsack  for  a  pillow  ;  but  your  excellency  is  an  old  soldier,  and 
knows  that  to  one  who  has  been  in  the  wars,  such  a  night's  lodg- 
ing is  no  great  hardship." 

The  governor  nodded  assent,  as  he  drew  his  pocket  hand- 
kerchief out  of  the  basket-hilt,  to  drive  away  a  fly  that,  buzzed 
about  his  nose. 


SOLDIER'S  FAKE. 

tt  Well,  to  make  a  long  story  short,"  continued  the  soldier, 
•''  I  trudged  forward  for  several  miles  until  I  came  to  a  bridge 
over  a  deep  ravine,  through  which  ran  a  little  thread  of  water, 
almost  dried  up  by  the  summer  heat.  At  one  end  of  the  bridge 
was  a  Moorish  tower,  the  upper  end  all  in  ruins,  but  a  vault  in 
the  foundation  quite  entire.  Here,  thinks  I,  is  a' good  place  to 
make  a  halt ;  so  I  went  down  to  the  stream,  took  a  hearty  drink, 
for  the  water  was  pure  and  sweet,  and  I  was  parched  with  thirst ; 
then,  opening  my  wallet,  I  took  out  an  onion  and  a  few  crusts, 
which  were  all  my  provisions,  and  seating  myself  on  a  stone  on 
the  margin  of  the  stream,  began  to  make  my  supper  ;  intending 
afterwards  to  quarter  myself  for  the  night  in  the  vault  of  the 
tower ;  and  capital  quarters  they  would  have  been  for  a  cam- 
paigner just  from  the  wars,  as  your  excellency,  who  is  an  old 
soldier,  may  suppose." 

"  I  have  put  up  gladly  with  worse  in  my  time,"  said  the 
governor,  returning  his  pocket-handkerchief  into  the  hilt  of  his 
sword. 

"  While  I  was  quietly  crunching  my  crust,"  pursued  the  sol- 
dier, "  I  heard  something  stir  within  the  vault ;  I  listened — it 
was  the  tramp  of  a  horse.  By  and  by  a  man  came  forth  from  a 
door  in  the  foundation  of  the  tower,  close  by  the  water's  edge, 
leading  a  powerful  horse  by  the  bridle.  I  could  not  well  make 
out  what  he  was  by  the  starlight".  It  had  a  suspicious  look  to  be 
lurking  among  the  ruins  of  a  tower,  in  that  wild  solitary  place. 
He  might  be  a  mere  wayfarer,  like  myself;  he  might  be  a  eon- 
trabandista  ;  he  might  be  a  bandalero !  what  of  that  ?  thank 
heaven  and  my  poverty,  I  had  nothing  to  lose ;  so  I  sat  still  and 
crunched  my  crust. 

"  He  led  his  horse  to  the  water,  close  by  where  I  was  sitting, 


334:  THE   MOORISH    TROOPEK. 

80  that  I  had  a  fair  opportunity  of  reconnoitering  him.  To  my 
surprise  he  was  dressed  in  a  Moorish  garb,  with  a  cuirass  of 
steel,  and  a  polished  skull-cap  that  I  distinguished  by  the  reflec- 
tion of  the  stars  upon  it.  His  horse,  too,  was  harnessed  in  tho 
Morcsco  fashion,  with  great  shovel  stirrups.  He  led  him,  as  I 
paid,  to  the  side  of  the  stream,  into  which  the  animal  plunged 
his  head  almost  to  the  eyes,  and  drank  until  I  thought  he  would 
have  burst. 

* '  Comrade,'  said  I,  '  your  steed  drinks  well ;  it's  a  good 
sign  when  a  horse  plunges  his  muzzle  bravely  into  the  water.' 

" '  He  may  well  drink,'  said  the  stranger,  speaking  with 
a  Moorish  accent ;  '  it  is  a  good  year  since  he  had  his  last 
draught.' 

"  *  By  Santiago,'  said  I,  '  that  beats  even  the  camels  I  have 
seen  in  Africa.  But  come,  you  seem  to  be  something  of  a  sol- 
dier, will  you  sit  down  and  take  part  of  a  soldier's  fare  ?'  In 
fact,  I  felt  the  want  of  a  companion  in  this  lonely  place,  and  was 
willing  to  put  up  with  an  infidel.  Besides,  as  your  excellency 
well  knows,  a  soldier  is  never  very  particular  about  the  faith  of 
his  company,  and  soldiers  of  all  countries  are  comrades  on  peace- 
able ground." 

The  governor  again  nodded  assent. 

"  "Well,  as  I  was  saying,  I  invited  him  to  share  my  supper, 
such  as  it  was,  for  I  could  not  do  less  in  common  hospitality, 
1 1  have  no  time  to  pause  for  meat  or  drink,'  said  he,  c  I  have  a 
long  journey  to  make  before  morning.' 

"  '  In  which  direction  ?'  said  I. 

"  *  Andalusia,'  said  he. 

"  '  Exactly  my  route,'  said  I,  *  so,  as  you  won't  stop  and  eat 
with  me,  perhaps  you  will  let  me  mount  and  ride  with  you.  1 


A   SCAMPER.  335 

see  your  horse  is  of  a  powerful  frame,  I'll  warrant  he'll  carry 
double.' 

" '  Agreed,'  said  the  trooper ;  and  it  would  not  have  been 
civil  and  soldierlike  to  refuse,  especially  as  I  had  offered  to 
share  my  supper  with  him.  So  up  he  mounted,  and  up  I  mount- 
ed behind  him.  * 

"  '  Hold  fast,'  said  he,  '  my  steed  goes  like  the  wind.' 

K  *  Never  fear  me,'  said  I,  and  so  off  we  set. 

"  From  a  walk  the  horse  soon  passed  to  a  trot,  from  a  trot  to 
a  gallop,  and  from  a  gallop  to  a  harum-scarum  scamper.  It 
seemed  as  if  rocks,  trees,  houses,  every  thing,  flew  hurry-scurry 
behind  us. 

"  '  What  town  is  this  ?'  said  I. 

" '  Segovia,'  said  he  ;  and  before  the  word  was  out  of  his 
mouth,  the  towers  of  Segovia  were  out  of  sight.  We  swept  up  the 
Guadarama  mountains,  and  down  by  the  Escurial ;  and  we  skirted 
the  walls  of  Madrid,  and  we  scoured  away  across  the  plains  of  La 
Mancha.  In  this  way  we  went  up  hill  and  down  dale,  by  towers 
and  cities,  all  buried  in  deep  sleep,  and  across  mountains,  and 
plains,  and  rivers,  just  glimmering  in  the  starlight. 

"  To  make  a  long  story  short,  and  not  to  fatigue  your 
excellency,  the  trooper  suddenly  pulled  up  on  the  side  of  a 
mountain.  <  Here  we  are,'  said  he,  '  at  the  end  of  our  journey.' 
I  looked  about,  but  could  see  no  signs  of  habitation ;  nothing 
but  the  mouth  of  a  cavern.  While  I  looked  I  saw  multitudes  of 
people  in  Moorish  dresses,  some  on  horseback,  some  on  foot, 
arriving  as  if  borne  by  the  wind  from  all  points  of  the  compass, 
and  hurrying  into  the  mouth  of  the  cavern  like  bees  into  a  hive. 
Before  I  could  ask  a  question  the  trooper  struck  his  long  Moorish 
spurs  into  the  horse's  flanks,  and  dashed  in  with  the  throng.  Wo 


336  THE  ENCHANTED  CAVERN. 

passed  along  a  steep  winding  way,  that  descended  into  the  very 
bowels  of  the  mountain.  As  we  pushed  on,  a  light  began  to 
glimmer  up,  by  little  and  little,  like  the  first  glimmerings  of  day, 
but  what  caused  it  I  could  not  discern.  It  grew  stronger  and 
stronger,  and  enabled  me  to  see  every  thing  around.  I  now 
noticed,  as  we  passed  along,  great  caverns,  opening  to  the  right 
and  left,  like  halls  in  an  arsenal.  In  some  there  were  shields, 
and  helmets,  and  cuirasses,  and  lances,  and  cimeters,  hanging 
against  the  walls  5  in  others  there  were  great  heaps  of  warlike 
munitions,  and  camp  equipage  lying  upon  the  ground. 

"  It  would  have  done  your  excellency's  heart  good,  being  an 
old  soldier,  to  have  seen  such  grand  provision  for  war.  Then,  in 
other  caverns,  there  were  long  rows  of  horsemen  armed  to  the 
teeth,  with  lances  raised  and  banners  unfurled,  all  ready  for  the 
field ;  but  they  all  sat  motionless  in  their  saddles  like  so  many 
statues.  In  other  halls  were  warriors  sleeping  on  the  ground 
beside  their  horses,  and  foot- soldiers  in  groups  ready  to  fall  into 
the  ranks.  All  were  in  old-fashioned  Moorish  dresses  and  armor. 

"  Well,  your  excellency,  to  cut  a  long  story  short,  we  at 
length  entered  an  immense  cavern,  or  I  may  say  palace,  of  grotto 
work,  the  walls  of  which  seemed  to  be  veined  with  gold  and 
silver,  and  to  sparkle  with  diamonds  and  sapphires  and  all  kinds 
of  precious  stones.  At  the  upper  end  sat  a  Moorish  king  on  a 
golden  throne,  with  his  nobles  on  each  side,  and  a  guard  of  Afri- 
can blacks  with  drawn  cimeters.  All  the  crowd  that  continued 
to  flock  in,  and  amounted  to  thousands  and  thousands,  passed 
one  by  one  before  his  throne,  each  paying  homage  as  he  passed. 
Some  of  the  multitude  were  dressed  in  magnificent  robes,  without, 
stain  or  blemish  and  sparkling  with  jewels ;  others  in  burnished 
and  enamelled  armor ;  while  others  were  in  mouldered  and 


THE   ENCHANTED   AKMY.  337 

mildewed  garments,  and  in  armor  all  battered  and  dented  and 
covered  with  rust. 

"  I  had  hitherto  held  my  tongue,  for  your  excellency  well 
knows  it  is  not  for  a  soldier  to  ask  many  questions  when  on 
duty,  but  I  could  keep  silent  no  longer. 

" '  Prithee,  comrade,'  said  I,  *  what  is  the  meaning  of  all 
this?' 

" '  This,'  said  the  trooper,  { is  a  great  and  fearful  mystery. 
Know,  0  Christian,  that  you  see  before  you  the  court  and  army 
of  Boabdil  the  last  king  of  Granada.' 

"  '  What  is  this  you  tell  me?'  cried  I.  '  Boabdil  and  his  court 
were  exiled  from  the  land  hundreds  of  years  agone,  and  all  died 
in  Africa.' 

"'So  it  is  recorded  in  your  lying  chronicles,'  replied  the 
Moor,  '  but  know  that  Boabdil  and  the  warriors  who  made  the 
last  struggle  for  Granada  were  all  shut  up  in  the  mountain  by 
powerful  enchantment.  As  for  the  king  and  army  that  marched 
forth  from  Granada  at  the  time  of  the  surrender,  they  were  a 
mere  phantom  train  of  spirits  and  demons,  permitted  to  assume 
those  shapes  to  deceive  the  Christian  sovereigns.  And  further- 
more let  me  tell  you,  friend,  that  all  Spain  is  a  country  under 
the  power  of  enchantment.  There  is  not  a  mountain  cave,  not  a 
lonely  watchtower  in  the  plains,  nor  ruined  castle  on  the  hills, 
but  has  some  spell-bound  warriors  sleeping  from  age  to  age 
within  its  vaults,  until  the  sins  are  expiated  for  which  Allah 
permitted  the  dominion  to  pass  for  a  time  out  of  the  hands  of 
the  faithful.  Once  every  year,  on  the  eve  of  St.  John,  they  are 
released  from  enchantment,  from  sunset  to  sunrise,  and  permitted 
to  repair  here  to  pay  homage  to  their  sovereign  !  and  the  crowds 
which  you  beheld  swarming  into  the  cavern  are  Moslem  warriors 
15 


338  THE   ENCHANTED   AKMY. 

from  their  haunts  in  all  parts  of  Spain.  For  my  own  part 
you  saw  the  ruined  tower  of  the  bridge  in  Old  Castile,  where 
I  have  now  wintered  and  summered  for  many  hundred  years,  and 
where  I  must  be  back  again  by  daybreak.  As  to  the  battalions  of 
horse  and  foot  which  you  beheld  drawn  up  in  array  in  the  neigh- 
boring caverns,  they  are  the  spell-bound  warriors  of  Granada.  It 
is  written  in  the  book  of  fate,  that  when  the  enchantment  is 
broken,  Boabdil  will  descend  from  the  mountain  at  the  head  of 
this  army,  resume  his  throne  in  the  Alhambra  and  his  sway  of 
Granada,  and  gathering  together  the  enchanted  warriors,  from 
all  parts  of  Spain,  will  reconquer  the  Peninsula  and  restore  it  to 
Moslem  rule.' 

"  'And  when  shall  this  happen?'  said  I. 

" '  Allah  alone  knows :  we  had  hoped  the  day  of  deliverance 
was  at  hand;  but  there  reigns  at  present  a  vigilant -governor  in 
the  Alhambra,  a  stanch  old  soldier,  well  known  as  Governor 
Manco.  While  such  a  warrior  holds  command  of  the  very  out- 
post, and  stands  ready  to  check  the  first  irruption  from  the 
mountain,  I  fear  Boabdil  and  his  soldiery  must  be  content  to 
rest  upon  their  arms.'  " 

Here  the  governor  raised  himself  somewhat  perpendicularly, 
adjusted  his  sword,  and  twirled  up  his  mustaches. 

"  To  make  a  long  story  short,  and  not  to  fatigue  your  ex- 
cellency, the  trooper,  having  given  nie  this  account,  dismounted 
from  his  steed. 

" l  Tarry  here,',  said  he,  '  and  guard  my  steed  while  I  go  and 
bow  the  knee  to  Boabdil.'  So  saying,  he  strode  away  among  the 
throng  that  pressed  forward  to  the  throne. 

" l  What's  to  be  done  ?'  thought  I,  when  thus  left  to  myself ; 
I  wait  here  until  this  infidel  returns  to  whisk  me  off  on  hi: 


THE   EXIT. 


339 


goblin  steed,  the  Lord  knows  where ;  or  shall  I  make  the  most  of 
my  time  and  beat  a  retreat  from  this  hobgoblin  community?'  A 
soldier's  mind  is  soon  made  up,  as  your  excellency  well  knows. 
As  to  the  horse,  he  belonged  to  an  avowed  enemy  of  the  faith 
and  the  realm,  and  was  a  fair  prize  according  to  the  rules  of 
war.  So  hoisting  myself  from  the  crupper  into  the  saddle,  I 
turned  the  reins,  struck  the  Moorish  stirrups  into  the  sides  of 
the  steed,  and  put  him  to  make  the  best  of  his  way  out  of  the 
passage  by  which  he  had  entered.  As  we  scoured  by  the  halla 
where  the  Moslem  horsemen  sat  in  motionless  battalions,  I 
thought  I  heard  the  clang  of  armor  and  a  hollow  murmur  of 
voices.  I  gave  the  steed  another  taste  of  the  stirrups  and 
doubled  my  speed.  There  was  now  a  sound  behind  me  like  a 
rushing  blast ;  I  heard  the  clatter  of  a  thousand  hoofs ;  a  countless 
throng  overtook  me.  I  was  borne  along  in  the  press,  and  hurled 
forth  from  the  mouth  of  the  cavern,  while  thousands  of  shadowy 
forms  were  swept  off  in  every  direction  by  the  four  winds  of 
heaven. 

"  In  the  whirl  and  confusion  of  the  scene  I  was  thrown  sense- 
less to  the  earth.  When  I  came  to  myself  I  was  lying  on  the 
brow  of  a  hill,  with  the  Arabian  steed  standing  beside  me  ;  for  in 
falling,  my  arm  had  slipped  within  the  bridle,  which,  I  presume, 
prevented  his  whisking  off  to  Old  Castile. 

"  Your  excellency  may  easily  judge  of  my  surprise,  on  looking 
round,  to  behold  hedges  of  aloes  and  Indian  figs  and  other  proofs 
of  a  southern  climate,  and  to  see  a  great  city  below  me,  with 
towers,  and  palaces,  and  a  grand  cathedral. 

u  I  descended  the  hill  cautiously,  leading  my  steed,  for  I  was 
afraid  to  mount  him  again,  lest  he  should  play  me  some  slippery 
trick.  As  I  descended  I  met  with  your  patrol,  who  let  me  into 


340 

the  secret  that  it  was  Granada  that  lay  before  me ;  and  that  I 
was  actually  under  the  walls  of  the  Alhambra,  the  fortress  of  the 
redoubted  Governor  Manco,  the  terror  of  all  enchanted  Moslems. 
When  I  heard  this,  I  determined  at  once  to  seek  your  excellency, 
to  inform  you  of  all  that  I  had  seen,  and  to  warn  you  of  the  perils 
that  surround  and  undermine  you,  that  you  may  take  measures 
in  time  to  guard  your  fortress,  and  the  kingdom  itself,  from  this 
intestine  army  that  lurks  in  the  very  bowels  of  the  land." 

"  And  prithee,  friend,  you  who  are  a  veteran  campaigner,  and 
have  seen  so  much  service,"  said  the  governor,  "  how  would  you 
advise  me  to  proceed,  in  order  to  prevent  this  evil?" 

"  It  is  not  for  a  humble  private  of  the  ranks/'  said  the  sol- 
dier, modestly,  "  to  pretend  to  instruct  a  commander  of  your  ex- 
cellency's sagacity,  but  it  appears  to  me  that  your  excellency 
might  cause  all  the  caves  and  entrances  into  the  mountains  to  be 
walled  up  with  solid  mason  work,  so  that  Boabdil  and  his  army 
might  be  completely  corked  up  in  their  subterranean  habitation. 
If  the  good  father,  too,"  added  the  soldier,  reverently  bowing  to 
the  friar,  and  devoutly  crossing  himself,  "  would  consecrate  the 
barricadoes  with  his  blessing,  and  put  up  a  few  crosses  and  relics 
and  images  of  saints,  I  think  they  might  withstand  all  the  power 
of  infidel  enchantments." 

"  They  doubtless  would  be  of  great  avail,"  said  the  friar. 

The  governor  now  placed  his  arm  a-kimbo,  with  his  hand  rest- 
ing on  the  hilt  of  his  Toledo,  fixed  his  eye  upon  the  soldier,  and 
gently  wagging  his  head  from  one  side  to  the  other, 

"So,  friend,"  said  he,  "then  you  really  suppose  I  am  to  bo 
gulled  with  this  cock-and-bull  story  about  enchanted  mountains 
a  ad  enchanted  Moors  ?  Hark  ye,  culprit ! — not  another  word. 
An  old  soldier  you  may  be.  but  you'll  find  you  have  an  older 


A  MOORISH   PFKSE. 


34:1 


soldier  to  deal  with,  and  one  not  easily  outgeneralled.  Ho ! 
guards  there  !  put  this  fellow  in  irons." 

The  demure  handmaid  would  have  put  in  a  word  in  favor  of 
the  prisoner,  but  the  governor  silenced  her  with  a  look. 

As  they  were  pinioning  the  soldier,  one  of  the  guards  felt 
something  of  bulk  in  his  pocket,  and  drawing  it  forth,  found  a 
long  leathern  purse  that  appeared  to  be  well  filled.  Holding  ifc 
by  one  corner,  he  turned  out  the  contents  upon  the  table  before 
the  governor,  and  never  did  freebooter's  bag  make  more  gorgeous 
delivery.  Out  tumbled  rings,  and  jewels,  and  rosaries  of  pearls, 
and  sparkling  diamond  crosses,  and  a  profusion  of  ancient  golden 
coin,  some  of  which  fell  jingling  to  the  floor,  and  rolled  away  to 
the  uttermost  pjarts  of  the  chamber. 

For  a  time  the  functions  of  justice  were  suspended ;  there 
was  a  universal  scramble  after  the  glittering  fugitives.  The  gov- 
ernor alone,  who  was  imbued  with  true  Spanish  pride,  maintained 
his  stately  decorum,  though  his  eye  betrayed  a  little  anxiety 
until  the  last  coin  and  jewel  was  restored  to  the  sack. 

The  friar  was  not  so  calm  ;  his  whole  face  glowed  like  a  fur- 
nace, and  his  eyes  twinkled  and  flashed  at  sight  of  the  rosaries 
and  crosses. 

"  Sacrilegious  wretch  that  thou  art !"  exclaimed  he  ;  "  what 
church  or  sanctuary  hast  thou  been  plundering  of  these  sacred 
relics?" 

"  Neither  one  nor  the  other,  holy  father.  If  they  be  sacrile- 
gious spoils,  they  must  have  been  taken,  in  times  long  past,  by  the 
infidel  trooper  I  have  mentioned.  I  was  just  going  to  tell'  Ins 
excellency  when  he  interrupted  me,  that  on  taking  possession  of 
the  trooper's  horse,  I  unhooked  a  leathern  -sack  which  hung  at 
the  saddle-bow,  and  which  I  presume  contained  the  plunder  ot 


34:2  A  SOLDIER'S  QUARTERS. 

his  campaignings  in  days  of  old,  when  the  Moors  overran  tho 
country." 

"  Mighty  well ;  at  present  you  will  make  up  your  mind  to 
take  up  your  quarters  in  a  chamber  of  the  vermilion  tower,  which, 
though  not  under  a  magic  spell,  will  hold  you  as  safe  as  any  cav 
of  your  enchanted  Moors." 

.  "  Your  excellency  will  do  as  you  think  proper,"  said  the  pris 
oner,  coolly.  "  I  shall  be  thankful  to  your  excellency  for  any 
accommodation  in  the  fortress.  A  soldier  who  has  been  in  the 
wars,  as  your  excellency  well  knows,  is  not  particular  about  his 
lodgings :  provided  I  have  a  snug  dungeon  and  regular  rations,  I 
shall  manage  to  make  myself  comfortable.  I  would  only  entreat 
that  while  your  excellency  is  so  careful  about  me,  you  would  have 
an  eye  to  your  fortress,  and  think  on  the  hint  I  dropped  about 
stopping  up  the  entrances  to  the  mountain." 

Here  ended  the  scene.  The  prisoner  was  conducted  to  a 
strong  dungeon  in  the  vermilion  tower,  the  Arabian  steed .  was 
led  to  his  excellency's  stable,  and  the  trooper's  sack  was  deposited 
in  his  excellency's  strong  box.  To  the  latter,  it  is  true,  the  friar 
made  some  demur,  questioning  whether  the  sacred  relics,  which 
were  evidently  sacrilegious  spoils,  should  not  be  placed  in  custody 
of  the  church ;  but  as  the  governor  was  peremptory  on  the  subject, 
and  was  absolute  lord  in  the  Alhambra,  the  friar  discreetly  drop- 
ped .the  discussion,  but  determined  to  convey  intelligence  of  the 
fact  to  the  church  dignitaries  in  Granada. 

To  explain  these  prompt  and  rigid  measures  on  the  part  o! 

old  Governor  Manco,  it  is  proper  to  observe,  that  about  this  time 

the  Alpuxarra  mountains  in  the  neighborhood  of  Granada  were 

terribly  infested  by  a  gang  of  robbers,  under  the  command  of  a 

«daring  chief  named  Manuel  Borasco,  who  were  accustomed  to 


MANUEL   BORASCO.  343 

prowl  about  the  country,  and  even  to  enter  the  city  in  various 
disguises,  to  gain  intelligence  of  the  departure  of  convoys  of 
merchandise,  or  travellers  with  well-lined  purses,  whom  they 
took  care  to  waylay  in  distant  and  solitary  passes  of  the  road. 
These  repeated  and  daring  outrages  had  awakened  the  attention 
of  government,  and  the  commanders  of  the  various  posts  had 
received  instructions  to  be  on  the  alert,  and  to  take  up  all 
suspicious  stragglers.  Governor  Manco  was  particularly  zealous 
in  consequence  of  the  various  stigmas  that  had  been  cast  upon 
his  fortress,  and  he  now^  doubted  not  he  had  entrapped  some 
formidable  desperado  of  this  gang. 

In  the  mean  time  the  story  took  wind,  and  became  the  talk, 
not  merely  of  the  fortress,  but  of  the  whole  city  of  Granada.  It 
was  said  that  the  noted  robber  Manuel  Borasco,  the  terror  of  the 
Alpuxarras,  had  fallen  into  the  clutches  of  old  Governor  Manco, 
and  been  cooped  up  by  him  in  a  dungeon  of  the  vermilion  towers ; 
and  every  one  who  had  been  robbed  by  him  nocked  to  recognize 
the  marauder.  The  vermilion  towers,  as  is  well  known,  stand 
apart  from  the  Alhambra  on  a  sister  hill,  separated  from  the 
main  fortress  by  the  ravine  down  which  passes  the  main  avenue. 
There  were  no  outer  walls,  but  a  sentinel  patrolled  before  the 
tower.  The  window  of  the  chamber  in  which  the  soldier  was 
confined  was  strongly  grated,  and  looked  upon  a  small  esplanade. 
Here  the  good  folks  of  Granada  repaired  to  gaze  at  him,  as  they 
would  at  a  laughing  hyena,  grinning  through  the  cage  of  a  men- 
agerie. Nobody,  however,  recognized  him  for  Manuel  Borasco, 
for  that  terrible  robber  was  noted  for  a  ferocious  physiognomy, 
and  had  by  no  means  the  good-humored  squint  of  the  prisoner. 
Visitors  came  not  merely  from  the  city,  but  from  all  parts  of  the 
country  ;  but  nobody  knew  him,  and  there  began  to  be  doubts  in 


MANUEL   BOKASCO. 

the  minds  of  the  common  people  whether  there  might  not  be 
some  truth  in  his  story.  That  Boabdil  and  his  army  were  shut 
up  in  the  mountain,  was  an  old  tradition  which  many  of  the 
ancient  inhabitants  had  heard  from  their  fathers.  Numbers  went 
up  to  the  mountain  of  the  sun,  or  rather  of  St.  Elena,  in  search 
f  the  cave  mentioned  by  the  soldier ;  and  saw  and  peeped  into 
the  deep  dark  pit,  descending,  no  one  knows  how  far,  into  the 
mountain,  and  which  remains  there  to  this  day — the  fabled 
entrance  to  the  subterranean  abode  of  Boabdil. 

By  degrees  the  soldier  became  popular  with  the  common 
people.  A  freebooter  of  the  mountains  is  by  no  means  the 
opprobrious  character  in  Spain  that  a  robber  is  in  any  othei 
country :  on  the  contrary,  he  is  a  kind  of  chivalrous  personage  in 
the  eyes  of  the  lower  classes.  There  is  always  a  disposition,  also, 
to  cavil  at  the  conduct  of  those  in  command,  and  many  began  to 
murmur  at  the  high-handed  measures  of  old  Governor  Manoo, 
and  to  look  upon  the  prisoner  in  the  light  of  a  martyr. 

The  soldier,  moreover,  was  a  merry,  waggish  fellow,  that  had 
a  joke  for  every  one  who  came  near  his  window,  and  a  soft  speech 
for  every  female.  He  had  procured  an  old  guitar  also,  and  .would 
sit  by  his  window  and  sing  ballads  and  love-ditties  to  the  delight 
of  the  women  of  the  neighborhood,  who  would  assemble  on  the 
esplanade  in  the  evening  and  dance  boleros  to  his  music. 
Having  trimmed  off  his  rough  beard,  his  sunburnt  face  found 
favor  in  the  ey<*j  of  the  fair,  and  the  demure  handmaid  of  the 
governor  declared  that  his  squint  was  perfectly  irresistible. 
This  kind-hearted  damsel  had  from  the  first  evinced  a  deep 
sympathy  in  his  fortunes,  and  having  in  vain  tried  to  mollify  the 
governor,  had  set  to  work  privately  to  mitigate  the  rigor  of  his 
dispensations.  Every  day  she  brought  the  prisoner  some  crumbs 


THE    SPOLIA   OPIMA. 


345 


oi'  comfort  which  had  fallen  from  the  governor's  table,  or  been 
abstracted  from  his  larder,  together  with,  now  and  then,  a  condol- 
ing bottle  of  choice  Val  de  Penas,  or  rich  Malaga. 

"While  this  petty  treason  was  going  on,  in  the  very  centre  of 
the  old  governor's  citadel,  a  storm  of  open  war  was  brewing  up 
among  his  external  foes.  The  circumstance  of  a  bag  of  gold  and 
jewels  having  been  found  upon  the  person  of  the  supposed  robber, 
had  been  reported,  with  many  exaggerations,  in  Granada.  A 
question  of  territorial  jurisdiction  was  immediately  started  by 
the  governor's  inveterate  rival,  the  captain-general.  He  insisted 
that  the  prisoner  had  been  captured  without  the  precincts  of  the 
Alhanibra,  and  within  the  rules  of  his  authority.  He  demanded 
his  body  therefore,  and  the  spolia  opima  taken  with  him.  Duo 
information  having  been  carried  likewise  by  the  friar  to  the 
grand  inquisitor  of  the  crosses  and  rosaries,  and  other  relics 
contained  in  the  bag,  he  claimed  the  culprit  as  having  been  guilty 
of  sacrilege,  and  insisted  that  his  plunder  was  due  to  the  church, 
and  his  body  to  the  next  auto  da  fe.  The  feuds  ran  high ;  the 
governor  was  furious,  and  swore,  rather  than  surrender  his 
captive,  he  would  hang  him  up  within  the  Alhambra,  as  a  spy 
caught  within  the  purlieus  of  the  fortress. 

The  captain-general  threatened  to  send  a  body  of  soldiers  to 
transfer  the  prisoner  from  the  vermilion  tower  to  the  city.  The 
grand  inquisitor  was  equally  bent  upon  dispatching  a  number  of 
the  familiars  of  the  Holy  Office.  Word  was  brought  late  at 
night  to  the  governor  of  these  machinations.  "  Let  them  come," 
said  he,  "  they'll  find  me  beforehand  with  them ;  he  must  rise 
bright,  and  early  who  would  take  in  an  old  soldier."  He  accord- 
ingly issued  orders  to  have  the  prisoner  removed,  at  daybreak, 
to  the  donjon  keep  within  the  walls  of  the  Alhambra.  "And 
15* 


346 

d'ye  hear,  child."  said  he  to  his  demure  handmaid,  "tap  at 
my  door,  and  wake  me  before  cock-crowing,  that  I  may  see  to 
the  matter  myself." 

The  day  dawned,  the  cock  crowed,  but  nobody  tapped  at  tho 
door  of  the  governor.  The  sun  rose  high  above  the  mountain- 
tops,  and  glittered  in  at  his  casement,  ere  the  governor  was 
awakened  from  his  morning  dreams  by  his  veteran  corporal,  who 
stood  before  him  with  terror  stamped  upon  his  iron  visage. 

"  He's  off !  he's  gone  !"  cried  the  corporal,  gasping  for  breath. 

"Who's  off— who's  gone?" 

"  The  soldier — the  robber — the  devil,  for  aught  I  know ;  his 
dungeon  is  empty,  but  the  door  locked :  no  one  knows  how  ho 
has  escaped  out  of  it." 

"Who  saw  him  last?" 

l-  Your  handmaid,  she  brought  him  his  supper." 

"  Let  her  be  called  instantly." 

Here  was  new  matter  of  confusion.  The  chamber  of  the 
demure  damsel  was  likewise  empty,  her  bed  had  not  been  slept 
in:  she  had  doubtless  gone  off  with  the  culprit,  as  she  had 
appeared,  for  some  days  past,  to  have  frequent  conversations 
with  him. 

This  was  wounding  the  old  governor  in  a  tender  part,  but  he 
had  scarce  time  to  wince  at  it,  when  new  misfortunes  broke  upon 
his  view.  On  going  into  his  cabinet  he  found  his  strong  box 
open,  the  leather  purse  of  the  trooper  abstracted,  and  with  it,  a 
couple  of  corpulent  bags  of  doubloons. 

But  how,  and  which  way  had  the  fugitives  escaped  ?  An  old 
peasant  who  lived  in  a  cottage  by  the  road-side,  leading  up  into 
the  Sierra,  declared  that  he  had  heard  the  tramp  of  a  powerful 
steed  just  before  daybreak,  passing  up  into  the  mountains.  Ho 


A  SOLDIER'S  GIFT.  34/T 

bad  looked  out  at  his  case:nent.  and  could  juit  distinguish  a 
horseman,  with  a  female  seated  before  him. 

"  Search  the  stables  !"  cried  Governor  Manco.  The  stables 
were  searched ;  all  the  horses  were  in  their  stalls,  excepting  the 
Arabian  steed.  In  his  place  was  a  stout  cudgel  tied  to  the 
manger,  and  on  it  a  label  bearing  these  words,  "A  gift  to 
Governor  Manco,  from  an  Old  Soldier." 


A  FETE  IN  THE  ALHAMBRA. 

THE  Saints'  day  of  my  neighbor  and  rival  potentate,  tiie  count, 
took  place  during  his  sojourn  in  the  Alhambra,  on  which  occa- 
sion he  gave  a  domestic  fete ;  assembling  round  him  the  mem- 
bers of  his  family  and  household,  while  the  stewards  and  old 
servants  from  his  distant  possessions  came  to  pay  him  reverence 
and  partake  of  the  good  cheer,  which  was'  sure  to  be  provided. 
It  presented  a  type,  tho^h  doubtless  a  faint  one,  of  the  estab- 
lishment of  a  Spanish  noble  in  the  olden  time. 

The  Spaniards  were  always  grandiose  in  their  notions  of 
style.  Huge  palaces  ;  lumbering  equipages,  laden  with  footmen 
and  lackeys ;  pompous  retinues,  and  useless  dependents  of  all 
kinds ;  the  dignity  of  a  noble  seemed  commensurate  with  the 
legions  who  loitered  about  his  halls,  fed  at  his  expense,  and 
seemed  ready  to  devour  him  alive.  This,  doubtless,  originated 
in  the  necessity  of  keeping  up  hosts  of  armed  retainers  during 
the  wars  with  the  Moors  ;  wars  of  inroads  and  surprises  ;  when 
a  noble  was  liable  to  be  suddenly  assailed  in  his  castle  by  a  foray 
of  the  enemy,  or  summoned  to  the  field  by  his  sovereign. 

The  custom  remained  after  the  wars  were  at  an  end ;  and 
what  originated  in  necessity  was  kept  up  through  ostentation. 
The  wealth  which  flowed  into  the  country  from  conquests  and 


8PAOTSH  STYLE.  349 

discoveries  fostered  the  passion  for  princely  establishments. 
According  to  magnificent  old  Spanish  usage,  in  which  pride  and 
generosity  bore  equal  parts,  a  superannuated  servant  was  never 
turned  off,  but  became  a  charge  for  the  rest  of  his  days ;  nay, 
iiis  children,  and  his  children's  children,  and  often  their  relative?, 
to  the  right  and  left,  became  gradually  entailed  upon  the  family. 
Hence  the  huge  palaces  of  the  Spanish  nobility,  which  have 
euch  an  air  of  empty  ostentation  from  the  greatness  of  their  size 
compared  with  the  mediocrity  and  scantiness  of  their  furniture, 
were  absolutely  required  in  the  golden  days  of  Spain,  by  the 
patriarchal  habits  of  their  possessors.  They  were  little  better 
than  vast  barracks  for  the  hereditary  generations  of  hangers  on 
that  battened  at  the  expense  of  a  Spanish  noble. 

These  patriarchal  habits  of  the  Spanish  nobility  have  declined 
with  their  revenues  ;  though  the  spirit  which  prompted  them  re- 
mains, and  wars  sadly  with  their  altered  fortunes.  The  poorest 
among  them  have  always  some  hereditary  hangers  on,  who  live  at 
their  expense,  and  make  them  poorer.  Some  who,  like  my 
neighbor  the  count,  retain  a  modicum  of  their  once  princely 
possessions,  keep  up  a  shadow  of  the  ancient  system,  and  their 
estates  are  overrun  and  the  produce  consumed  by  generations  of 
idle  retainers. 

The  count  held  estates  in  various  parts  of  the  kingdom,  some 
including  whole  villages ;  yet  the  revenues  collected  from  them 
Kere  comparatively  small ;  some  of  them,  he  assured  me.  barely 
fed  the  hordes  of  dependents  nestled  upon  them,  who  seemed  to 
consider  themselves  entitled  to  live  rent  free  and  be  maintained 
into  the  bargain,  because  their  forefathers  had  been  so  since 

time  immemorial. 

i 

The  saint's  day  of  the  old  count  gave  me  a  glimpse  into  a 
15* 


350  A   PATRIARCHAL   FETE. 

Spanish  interior.  For  two  or  three  days  previous  preparations 
were  made  for  the  fete.  Viands  of  all  kinds  were  brought  up 
from  town,  greeting  the  olfactory  nerves  of  the  old  invalid 
guards,  as  they  were  borne  past  them  throu*gh  the  Gate  of  Jus- 
tice. Servants  hurried  officiously  about  the  courts ;  the  ancient 
kitchen  of  the  palace  was  again  alive  with  the  tread  of  cooks 
and  scullions,  and  blazed  with  unwonted  fires. 

When  the  day  arrived  I  beheld  the  old  count  in  patriarchal 
state,  his  family  and  household  around  him,  with  functionaries 
who  mismanaged  his  estates  at  a  distance  and  consumed  the  pro- 
ceeds; while  numerous  old  worn-out  servants  and  pensioners 
were  loitering  about  the  courts  and  keeping  within  smell  of  the 
kitchen. 

It  was  a  joyous  day  in  the  Alhambra.  The  guests  dispersed 
themselves  about  the  palace  before  the  hour  of  dinner,  enjoying 
the  luxuries  of  its  courts  and  fountains,  and  embosomed  gar- 
dens, and  music  and  laughter  resounded  through  its  late  silent 
halls. 

The  feast,  for  a  set  dinner  in  Spain  is  literally  a  feast,  was 
served  in  the  beautiful  Moresco  Hall  of  "  Las  dos  Hermanas." 
The  table  was  loaded  with  all  the  luxuries  of  the  season ;  there 
was  an  almost  interminable  succession  of  dishes ;  showing  how 
truly  the  feast  at  the  rich  Camachos'  wedding  in  Don  Quixote 
was  a  picture  of  a  Spanish  banquet.  A  joyous  conviviality  pro- 
vailed  round  the  board ;  for  though  Spaniards  are  generally  ab- 
stemious, they  are  complete  revellers  on  occasions  like  the  pre- 
sent, and  none  more  so  than  the  Andalusians.  For  my  part, 
there  was  something  peculiarly  exciting  in  thus  sitting  at  a  feast 
in  the  royal  halls  of  the  Alhambra,  given  by  one  who  might  claim 
remote  affinity  with  its  Moorish  kings,  and  who  was  a  lineal  rep- 


LA   NINA.  351 

rcsentative  of  Gon salvo  of  Cordova,  one  of  the  most  distinguish- 
ed of  the  Christian  conquerors. 

The  banquet  ended,  the  company  adjourned  to  the  Hall  of 
Ambassadors.  Here  every  one  endeavored  to  contribute  to  tho 
general  amusement,  singing,  improvising,  telling  wonderful  tales, 
or  dancing  popular  dances  to  that  all  pervading  talisman  of 
Spanish  pleasure,  the  guitar. 

The  count's  gifted  little  daughter  was  as  usual  the  life  and 
delight  of  the  assemblage,  and  I  was  more  than  ever  struck  with 
her  aptness  and  wonderful  versatility.  She  took  a  part  in  two 
or  three  scenes  of  elegant  comedy  with  some  of  her  companions, 
and  performed  them  with  exquisite  point  and  finished  grace  ;  she 
gave  imitations  of  the  popular  Italian  singers,  some  serious,  some 
comic,  with  a  rare  quality  of  voice,  and,  I  was  assured,  with  sin 
gular  fidelity ;  she  imitated  the  dialects,  dances,  ballads,  and 
movements  and  manners  of  the  gipsies,  and  the  peasants  of  the 
Vega,  with  equal  felicity,  but  every  thing  was  done  with  an  all- 
pervading  grace  and  a  lady-like  tact  perfectly  fascinating. 

The  great  charm  of  every  thing  she  did  was  its  freedom 
from  pretension  or  ambitious  display,  its  happy  spontaneity. 
Every  thing  sprang  from  the  impulse  of  the  moment ;  or  was  in 
prompt  compliance  with  a  request.  She  seemed  unconscious  of 
the  rarity  and  extent  of  her  own  talent,  and  was  like  a  child  at. 
home  revelling  in  the  buoyancy  of  its  own  gay  and  innocent 
spirits.  Indeed  I  was  told  she  had  never  exerted  her  talents  in 
general  society,  but  only,  as  at  present,  in  the  domestic  circle. 

Her  faculty  of  observation  and  her  perception  of  character 
must  have  been  remarkably  quick,  for  she  could  have  had  only 
casual  and  transient  glances  at  the  scenes,  manners  and  customs, 
depicted  with  such  truth  and  spirit  "  Indeed  it  is  a  continual 


352  ENCHANTMENT   HUNTING. 

wonder  to  us,"  said  the  countess,  u  where  the  child  (la  Nina)  has 
picked  up  these  things  ;  her  life  being  passed  almost  entirely  at 
home,  in  the  bosom  of  the  family." 

Evening  approached;  twilight  began  to  throw  its  shadows 
about  the  halls,  and  the  bats  to  steal  forth  from  their  lurking 
place  and  flit  about.  A  notion  seized  the  little  damsel  and  some 
of  her  youthful  companions,  to  set  out,  under  the  guidance  of 
Dolores,  and  explore  the  less  frequented  parts  of  the  palace  in 
quest  of  mysteries  and  enchantments.  Thus  conducted,  they 
peeped  fearfully  into  the  gloomy  old  mosque,  but  quick  drew  back 
on  being  told  that  a  Moorish  king  had  been  murdered  there ; 
they  ventured  into  the  mysterious  regions  of  the  bath,  frightening 
themselves  with  the  sounds  and  murmurs  of  hidden  aqueducts, 
and  flying  with  mock  panic  at  the  alarm  of  phantom  Moors. 
They  then  undertook  the  adventure  of  the  Iron  Gate,  a  place  of 
baleful  note  in  the  Alhambra.  It  is  a  postern  gate,  opening 
into  a  dark  ravine ;  a  narrow  covered  way  leads  down  to  it,  which 
used  to  be  the  terror  of  Dolores  and  her  playmates  in  childhood, 
as  it  was  said  a  hand  without  a  body  would  sometimes  be 
stretched  out  from  the  wall  and  seize  hold  of  the  passers  by. 

The  little  party  of  enchantment  hunters  ventured  to  the  en- 
trance of  the  covered  way,  but  nothing  would  tempt  them  to 
enter,  in  this  hour  of  gathering  gloom ;  they  dreaded  the  grasp 
of  the  phantom  arm. 

At  length  they  came  running  back  into  the  Hall  of  Ambas- 
sadors in  a  mock  paroxysm  of  terror  ;  they  had  positively  seen 
two  spectral  figures  all  in  white.  They  had  not  stopped  to  ex- 
amine them ;  but  could  not  be  mistaken,  for  they  glared  distinctly 
through  the  surrounding  gloom.  Dolores  soon  arrived  and  ex- 
plained the  mystery.  The  spectres  proved  to  be  two  statues  of 


THE  VAULTED  PASSAGE.  353 

nymphs  in  white  marble,  placed  at  the  entrance  of  a  vaulted  pas- 
sage. Upon  this  a  grave,  but,  as  I  thought,  somewhat  sly  old 
gentleman  present,  who,  I  believe,  was  the  count's  advocate  or 
legal  adviser,  assured  them  that  these  statues  were  connected 
with  one  of  the  greatest  mysteries  of  the  Albambra ;  that  there 
was  a  curious  history  concerning  them,  and  moreover,  that  they 
stood  a  living  monument  in  marble  of  female  secrecy  and  discre- 
tion. All  present  entreated  him  to  tell  the  history  of  the  statues. 
He  took  a  little  time  to  recollect  the  details,  and  then  gave  them 
in  substance  the  following  legend. 


LEGEND  OF  THE  TWO  DISCREET  STATDE& 

THERE  lived  once  in  a  waste  apartment  of  the  Alhambra,  a  merry 
little  fellow,  named  Lope  Sanchez,  who  worked  in  the  gardens, 
and  was  as  brisk  and  blithe  as  a  grasshopper,  singing  all  day  long. 
He  was  the  life  and  soul  of  the  fortress ;  when  his  work  was 
over,  he  would  sit  on  one  of  the  stone  benches  of  the  esplanade, 
strum  his  guitar,  and  sing  long  ditties  about  the  Cid,  and  Ber- 
nardo del  Carpio,  and  Fernando  del  Pulgar,  and  other  Spanish 
heroes,  for  the  amusement  of  the  old  soldiers  of  the  fortress,  or 
would  strike  up  a  merrier  tune,  and  set  the  girls  dancing  boleros 
and  fandangos. 

Like  most  little  men,  Lope  Sanchez  had  a  strapping  buxom 
dame  for  a  wife,  who  could  almost  have  put  him  in  her  pocket ; 
but  he  lacked  the  usual  poor  man's  lot — instead  of  ten  children 
he  had  but  one.  This  was  a  little  black-eyed  girl  about  twelve 
years  of  age,  named  Sanchica,  who  was  as  merry  as  himself,  and 
the  delight  of  his  heart.  She  played  about  him  as  he  worked  in 
the  gardens,  danced  to  his  guitar  as  he  sat  in  the  shade,  and  ran 
as  wild  as  a  young  fawn  about  the  groves  and  alleys  and  ruined 
halls  of  the  Alhambra. 

It  was  now  the  eve  of  the  blessed  St.  John,  and  the  holiday, 
loving  gossips  of  the  Alhambra,  men,  women,  and  children,  went 


THE   JET   HAND.  355 

up  at  night  to  the  mountain  of  the  sun,  which  rises  above  the 
Genoralife,  to  keep  their  midsummer  vigil  on  its  level  summit. 
It  was  a  bright  moonlight  night,  and  all  the  mountains  were  gray 
and  silvery,  and  the  city,  with  its  domes  and  spires,  lay  in  sha- 
dows below,  and  the  Vega  was  like  a  fairy  land,  with  haunted 
fit  reams  gleaming  among  its  dusky  groves.  On  the  highest  part 
of  the  mountain  they  lit  up  a  bonfire,  according  to  an  old  custom 
of  the  country  handed  down  from  the  Moors.  The  inhabitants 
of  the  surrounding  country  were  keeping  a  similar  vigil,  and  bon- 
fires, here  and  there  in  the  Vega,  and  along  the  folds  of  the  moun- 
tains, blazed  up  palely  in  the  moonlight. 

The  evening  was  gayly  passed  in  dancing  to  the  guitar  of 
Lope  Sanchez,  who  was  never  so  joyous  as  when  on  a  holiday 
revel  of  the  kind.  While  the  dance  was  going  on,  the  little  San- 
chica  with  some  of  her  playmates  sported  among  the  ruins  of  an 
old  Moorish  fort  that  crowns  the  mountain,  when,  in  gathering 
pebbles  in  the  fosse,  she  found  a  small  hand  curiously  carved  of 
jet,  the  fingers  closed,  and  the  thumb  firmly  clasped  upon  them. 
Overjoyed  with  her  good  fortune,  she  ran  to  her  mother  with  her 
prize.  It  immediately  became  a  subject  of  sage  speculation,  and 
was  eyed  by  some  with  superstitious  distrust.  «  Throw  it  away," 
said  one ;  "  it's  Moorish — depend  upon  it  there's  mischief  and 
witchcraft  in  it."  "By  no  means,"  said  another;  "you  may  sell 
it  for  something  to  the  jewellers  of  the  Zacatin."  In  the  midst 
of  this  discussion  an  old  tawny  soldier  drew  near,  who  had  served 
in  Africa,  and  was  as  swarthy  as  a  Moor.  He  examined  the  hand 
with  a  knowing  look.  "  I  have  seen  things  of  this  kind,"  said 
he,  "  among  the  Moors  of  Barbary.  It  is  a  great  virtue  to  guard 
against  the  evil  eye,  and  all  kinds  of  spells  and  enchantments.  1 
give  you  joy,  friend  Lope,  this  bodes  good  luck  to  your  child." 


356  THE   BLACK   PIT. 

Upon  hearing  this,  the  wife  of  Lope  Sanchez  tied  the  little 
hand  of  jet  to  a  ribbon,  and  hung  it  round  the  neck  of  her  daugh- 
ter. 

The  sight  of  this  talisman  called  up  all  the  favorite  supersti- 
tions about  the  Moors.  The  dance  was  neglected,  and  they  sat 
in  groups  on  the  ground,  telling  old  legendary  tales  handed 
down  from  their  ancestors.  Some  of  their  stories  turned  upon 
the  wonders  of  the  very  mountain  upon  which  they  were  seated, 
which  is  a  famous  hobgoblin  region.  One  ancient  crone  gave  a 
long  account  of  the  subterranean  palace  in  the  bowels  of  that 
mountain  where.  Boabdil  and  all  his  Moslem  court  are  said  to  re- 
main enchanted.  "  Among  yonder  ruins,"  said  she,  pointing  to 
some  crumbling  walls  and  mounds  of  earth  on  a  distant  part  of 
the  mountain,  "  there  is  a  deep  black  pit  that  goes  down,  down 
into  the  very  heart  of  the  mountain.  For  all  the  money  in  Gra- 
nada I  would  not  look  down  into  it.  Once  upon  a  time  a  poor 
man  of  the  Alhambra,  who  tended  goats  upon  this  mountain, 
scrambled  down  into  that  pit  after  a  kid  that  had  fallen  in.  He 
came  out  again  all  wild  and  staring,  and  told  such  things  of 
what  he  had  seen,  that  every  one  thought  his  brain  was  turned. 
He  raved  for  a  day  or  two  about  the  hobgoblin  Moors  that  had 
pursued  him  in  the  cavern,  and  could  hardly  be  persuaded  to 
drive  his  goats  up  again  to  the  mountain.  He  did  so  at  last,  but, 
poor  man,  he  never  came  down  again.  The  neighbors  found  his 
goats  browsing  about  the  Moorish  ruins,  and  his  hat  and  mantle 
lying  near  the  mouth  of  the  pit,  but  he  was  never  more  heard 
of." 

The  little  Sanchica  listened  with  breathless  attention  to  this 
story.  She  was  of  a  curious  nature,  and  felt  immediately  a  great 
hankering  to  peep  into  this  dangerous  pit.  Stealing  away  from 


THE  BLACK   PIT.  357 

her  companions  she  sought  the  distant  ruins,  and  after  groping 
for  some  time  among  them  came  to  a  small  hollow,  or  basin,  near 
the  brow  of  the  mountain,  where  it  swept  steeply  down  into  the 
valley  of  the  Darro.  In  the  centre  of  this  basin  yawned  the 
mouth  of  the  pit.  Sanchica  ventured  to  the  verge,  and  peeped 
in.  All  was  as  black  as  pitch,  and  gave  an  idea  of  immeasurable 
depth.  Her  blood  ran  cold ;  she  drew  back,  then  peeped  in 
again,  then  would  have  run  away,  then  took  another  peep — the 
very  horror  of  the  thing  was  delightful  to  her.  At  length  she 
rolled  a  large  stone,  and  pushed  it  over  the  brink.  For  some 
time  it  fell  in  silence ;  then  struck  some  rocky  projection  with  a 
violent  crash,  then  rebounded  from  side  to  side,  rumbling  and 
tumbling,  with  a  noise  like  thunder,  then  made  a  final  splash  into 
water,  far,  far  below — and  all  was  again  silent. 

The  silence,  however,  did  not  long  continue.  It  seemed  as  if 
something  had  been  awakened  within  this  dreary  abyss.  A  mur- 
muring sound  gradually  rose  out  of  the  pit  like  the  hum  and 
buzz  of  a  beehive.  It  grew  louder  and  louder ;  there  was  the 
confusion  of  voices  as  of  a  distant  multitude,  together  with  the 
famt  din  of  arms,  clash  of  cymbals  and  clangor  of  trumpets,  as 
if  some  army  were  marshalling  for  battle  in  the  very  bowels  of 
the  mountain. 

The  child  drew  off  with  silent  awe,  and  hastened  back  to  tho 
place  where  she  had  left  her  parents  and  their  companions.  All 
were  gone.  The  bonfire  was  expiring,  and  its  last  wreath  of 
smoke  curling  up  in  the  moonshine.  The  distant  fires  that  had 
blazed  along  the  mountains  and  in  the  Vega  were  all  extinguish- 
ed, and  every  thing  seemed  to  have  sunk  to  repose.  Sanchica 
called  her  parents  and  some  of  her  companions  by  name,  but 
received  no  reply.  She  ran  down  the  side  of  the  mountain,  and 


358  THE  PHANTOM  PAGEANT. 

by  the  gardens  of  the  Gencralife,  until  she  arrived'  in  the  alley 
of  trees  leading  to  the  Alhambra,  when  she-  seated  herself  on  a 
bench  of  a  woody  recess  to  recover  breath.  The  bell  from  tho 
watchtower  of  the  Alhambra  tolled  midnight.  There  was  a  deep 
tranquillity  as  if  all  nature  slept ;  excepting  the  low  tinkling 
sound  of  an  unseen  stream  that  ran  under  the  covert  of  the 
bushes.  The  breathing  sweetness  of  the  atmosphere  was  lulling 
her  to  sleep,  when  her  eye  was  caught  by  something  glittering 
at  a  distance,  and  to  her  surprise  she  beheld  a  long  cavalcade  of 
Moorish  warriors  pouring  down  the  mountain  side  and  along  the 
leafy  avenues.  Some  were  armed  with  lances  and  shields ;  others 
with  cimeters  and  battle-axes,  and  with  polished  cuirasses  that 
flashed  in  the  moonbeams.  Their  horses  pranced  proudly  and 
champed  upon  their  bits,  but  their  tramp  caused  no  more  sound 
than  if  they  had  been  shod  with  felt,  and  the  riders  were  all  aa 
pale  as  death.  Among  them  rode  a  beautiful  lady,  with  a  crowned 
head  and  long  golden  locks  entwined  with  pearls.  The  housings 
of  her  palfry  were  of  crimson  velvet  embroidered  with  gold,  and 
swept  the  earth ;  but  she  rode  all  disconsolate,  with  eyes  ever 
fixed  upon  the  ground. 

Then  succeeded  a  train  of  courtiers  magnificently  arrayed  in 
robes  and  turbans  of  divers  colors,  and  amidst  them,  on  a  cream- 
colored  charger,  rode  king  Boabdil  el  Chico,  in  a  royal  mantle 
covered  with  jewels,  and  a  crown  sparkling  with  diamonds.  The 
little  Sanchica  knew  him  by  his  yellow  beard,  and  his  resemblance 
to  his  portrait,  which  she  had  often  seen  in  the  picture  gallery  of 
the  Generalife.  She  gazed  in  wonder  and  admiration  at  this 
royal  pageant,  as  it  passed  glistening  among  the  trees ;  but 
though  she  knew  these  monarchs  and  courtiers  and  warriors,  so 
pale  and  silent,  vvere  out  of  the  common  course  of  nature,  and 


THE   SUBTERRANEAN   HALL.  359 

things  of  magic  and  enchantment,  yet  she  looked  on  with  a  bold 
heart,  such  courage  did  she  derive  from  the  mystic  talisman  oi 
the  hand,  which  was  suspended  about  her  neck. 

The  cavalcade  having  passed  by,  she  rose  and  followed.  It 
continued  on  to  the  great  Gate  of  Justice,  which  stood  wide  open ; 
the  old  invalid  sentinels  on  duty  lay  on  the  stone  benches  of  the 
barbican,  buried  in  profound  and  apparently  charmed  sleep,  and 
the  phantom  pageant  swept  noiselessly  by  them  with  flaunting 
banner  and  triumphant  state.  Sanchica  would  have  followed ; 
but  to  her  surprise  she  beheld  an  opening  in  the  earth,  within 
the  barbican,  leading  down  beneath  the  foundations  of  the  tower. 
She  entered  for  a  little  distance,  and  was  encouraged  to  proceed 
by  finding  steps  rudely  hewn  in  the  rock,  and  a  vaulted  passage 
here  and  there  lit  up  by  a  silver  lamp,  which,  while  it  gave  light, 
diffused  likewise  a  grateful  fragrance.  Venturing  on,  she  came 
at  last  to  a  great  hall,  wrought  out  of  the  heart  of  the  mountain, 
magnificently  furnished  in  the  Moorish  style,  and  lighted  up  by 
silver  and  crystal  lamps.  Here,  on  an  ottoman,  sat  an  old  man 
in  Moorish  dress,  with  a  long  white  beard,  nodding  and  dozing, 
with  a  staff  in  his  hand,  which  seemed  ever  to  be  slipping  from 
his  grasp ;  while  at  a  little  distance  sat  a  beautiful  lady,  in 
ancient  Spanish  dress,  with  a  coronet  all' sparkling  with  diamonds, 
and  her  hair  entwined  with  pearls,  who  was  softly  playing  on  a 
silver  lyre.  The  little  Sanchica  now  recollected  a  story  she  had 
heard  among  the  old  people  of  the  Alhambra,  concerning  a  Gothic 
princess  confined  in  the  centre  of  the  mountain  by  an  old  Arabian 
magician,  whom  she  kept  bound  up  in  magic  sleep  by  the  power 
of  music. 

The  lady  paused  with  surprise  at  seeing  a  mortal  in  that 
enchanted  hall.  "  Is  it  the  eve  of  the  blessed  St.  John  ?"  said 
she. 


360  THE   ENCHANTED   MAGICIAN. 

"  It  is,"  replied  Sanohica. 

"  Then  for  one  night  the  magic  charm  is  suspended.     Come 
hither,  child,  and  fear  not.     I  am  a  Christian  like  thyself,  though 
bound  here  by  enchantment.     Touch  my  fetters  with  the  talis- 
man that  hangs  about  thy  neck,  and  for  this  night  I  shall  b 
free." 

So  saying,  she  opened  her  robes  and  displayed  a  broad  golden 
band  round  her  waist,  and  a  golden  chain  that  fastened  her  to 
the  ground.  The  child  hesitated  not  to  apply  the  little  hand  of 
jet  to  the  golden  band,  and  immediately  the  chain  fell  to  the 
earth.  At  the  sound  the  old  man  woke  and  began  to  rub  his 
eyes ;  but  the  lady  ran  her  fingers  over  the  chords  of  the  lyre, 
and  again  he  fell  into  a  slumber  and  began  to  nod,  and  his  staff 
to  falter  in  his  hand.  "  Now,"  said  the  lady,  "  touch  his  staff 
with  the  talismanic  hand  of  jet."  The  child  did  so,  and  it  fell 
from  his  grasp,  and  he  sank  in  a  deep  sleep  on  the  ottoman. 
The  lady  gently  laid  fche  silver  lyre  on  the  ottoman,  leaning  it 
against  the  head  of  the  sleeping  magician  ;  then  touching  the 
chords  until  they  vibrated  in  his  ear — "  0  potent  spirit  of  har- 
mony," said  she,  "  continue  thus  to  hold  his  senses  in  thraldom 
till  the  return  of  day.  Now  follow  me,  my  child,"  continued 
she,  "  and  thou  shalt  behold  the  Alhambra  as  it  was  in  the  days 
of  its  glory,  for  thou  h&st  a  magic  talisman  that  reveals  all 
enchantments."  Sanchica  followed  the  lady  in  silence.  They 
passed  up  through  the  entrance  of  the  cavern  into  the  barbican 
of  the  Gate  of  Justice,  and  thence  to  the  Plaza  de  los  Algibes,  or 
esplanade  within  the  fortress. 

This  was  all  filled,  with  Moorish  soldiery,  horse  and  foot, 
marshalled  in  squadrons,  with  banners  displayed.  There  were 
royal  guards  also  at  the  portal,  and  rows  of  African  blacks  with 


SHADOWY   GRANDEUR.  361 

drawn  cimeters.  No  one  spoke  a  word,  and  Sanchica  passed  on 
fearlessly  after  her  conductor.  Her  astonishment  increased  on 
entering  the  royal  palace,  in  which  she  had  been  reared.  The 
broad  moonshine  lit  up  all  the  halls  and  courts  and  gardens 
almost  as  brightly  as  if  it  were  day,  but  revealed  a  far  different 
scene  from  that  to  which  she  was  accustomed.  The  walls  of  tho 
apartments  were  no  longer  stained  and  rent  by  time.  Instead 
of  cobwebs,  they  were  now  hung  with  rich  silks  of  Damascus,  and 
the  gildings  and  arabesque  paintings  were  restored  to  their  origi- 
nal brilliancy  and  freshness.  The  halls,  no  longer  naked. and 
unfurnished,  were  set  out  with  divans  and  ottomans  of  the  rarest 
stuffs,  embroidered  with  pearls  and  studded  with  precious  gems, 
and  all  the  fountains  in  the  courts  and  gardens  were  playing. 

The  kitchens  were  again  in  full  operation  ;  cooks  were  busy 
preparing  shadowy  dishes,  and  roasting  and  boiling  the  phantoms 
of  pullets  and  partridges  :  servants  were  hurrying  to  and  fro 
with  silver  dishes  heaped  up  with  dainties,  and  arranging  a  deli- 
cious banquet.  The  Court  of  Lions  was  thronged  with  guards, 
and  courtiers,  and  alfaquis,  as  in  the  old  times  of  the  Moors  ; 
and  at  the  upper  end,  in  the  saloon  of  judgment,  sat  Boabdil  on 
his  throne,  surrounded  by  his  court,  and  swaying  a  shadowy  scep- 
tre for  the  night.  Notwithstanding  all  this  throng  and  seeming 
bustle,  not  a  voice  nor  a  footstep  was  to  be  heard ;  nothing  inter- 
rupted the  midnight  silence  but  the  splashing  of  the  fountains. 
The  little  Sanchica  followed  her  conductress  in  mute  amazement 
about  the  palace,  until  they  came  to  a  portal  opening  to  the 
vaulted  passages  beneath  the  great  tower  of  Comares.  On  each 
side  of  the  portal  sat  the  figure  of  a  nymph,  wrought  out  of  ala- 
baster. Their  heads  were  turned  aside,  and  their  regards  fixed 

upon  the   same  spot  within  the  vault.      The  enchanted  lady 
16 


362  THE   STATUES. 

paused,  and  beckoned  the  child  to  her.  u  Here,"  said  she,  u  is 
a  great  secret,  which  I  will  reveal  to  thee  in  reward  for  thy 
faith  and  courage.  These  discreet  statues  watch  over  a  treasure 
hidden  in  old  times  by  a  Moorish  king.  Tell  thy  father  to 
search  the  spot  on  which  their  eyes  are  fixed,  and  he  will  find 
what  will  make  him  richer  than  any  man  in  Granada.  Thy  in- 
nocent hands  alone,  however,  gifted  as  thou  art  also  with  the 
talisman,  can  remove  the  treasure.  Bid  thy  father  use  it  dis- 
creetly, and  devote  a  part  of  it  to  the  performance  of  daily 
masses  for  my  deliverance  from  this  unholy  enchantment." 

When  the  lady  had  spoken  these  words,  she  led  the  child  *n* 
ward  to  the  little  garden  of  Lindaraxa,  which  is  hard  by  »ho 
vault  of  the  statues.  The  moon  trembled  upon  the  waters  of  the 
solitary  fountain  in  the  centre  of  the  garden,  and  shed  a  tender 
light  upon  the  orange  and  citron  trees.  The  beautiful  lady 
plucked  a  branch  of  myrtle  and  wreathed  it  round  the  head  of 
the  child.  "  Let  this  be  a  memento,"  said  she,  "  of  what  I  have 
revealed  to  thee,  and  a  testimonial  of  its  truth.  My  hour  is 
come  ;  I  must  return  to  the  enchanted  hall ;  follow  me  not,  lest 
evil  befall  thee — farewell.  Remember  what  I  have  said,  and 
have  masses  performed  for  my  deliverance."  So  saying,  the 
lady  entered  a  dark  passage  leading  beneath  the  tower  of  Coma- 
res,  and  was  no  longer  seen. 

The  faint  crowing  of  a  cock  was  now  heard  from  the  cottages 
below  the  Alhambra,  in  the  valley  of  the  Darro,  and  a  pale 
streak  of  light  began  to  appear  above  the  eastern  mountains. 
A  slight  wind  arose,  there  was  a  sound  like  the  rustling  of  dry 
leaves  through  the  courts  and  corridors,  and  door  after  door 
shut  to  with  a  jarring  sound. 

Sanchica  returned  to  the   scenes  she  had   so  lt*-ily  DC  held 


/THE  MYRTLE  WREATH.  363 

thronged  with  the  shadowy  multitude,  but  Boabdil  and  his  phan- 
tom court  were  gone.  The  moon  shone  into  empty  halls  and 
galleries  stripped  of  their  transient  splendor,  stained  and  dilapi- 
dated by  time,  and  hung  with  cobwebs.  The  bat  flitted  about  in 
the  uncertain  light,  and  the  frog  croaked  from  the  fish-pond. 

Sanchica  now  made  the  best  of  her  way  to  a  remote  staircase 
that  led  up  to  the  humble  apartment  occupied  by  her  family. 
The  door  as  usual  was  open,  for  Lope  Sanchez  was  too  poor  to 
need  bolt  or  bar ;  she  crept  quietly  to  her  pallet,  and,  putting  the 
myrtle  wreath  beneath  her  pillow,  soon  fell  asleep. 

In  the  morning  she  related  all  that  had  befallen  -her  to  her 
father.  Lope  Sanchez,  however,  treated  the  whole  as  a  mere 
dream,  and  laughed  at  the  child  for  her  credulity.  He  went 
forth  to  his  customary  labors  in  the  garden,  but  had  not  been 
there  long  when  his  little  daughter  came  running  to  him  almost 
breathless.  "  Father !  father  !"  cried  she,  "  behold  the  myrtle 
wreath  which  the  Moorish  lady  bound  round  my  head." 

Lope  Sanchez  gazed  with  astonishment,  for  the  stalk  of  the 
myrtle  was  of  pure  gold,  and  every  leaf  was  a  sparkling  emerald ! 
Being  not  much  accustomed  to  precious  stones,  he  was  ignorant 
of  the  real  value  of  the  wreath,  but  he  saw  enough  to  convince  him 
that  it  was  something  more  substantial  than  the  stuff  of  which 
dreams  are  generally  made,  and  that  at  any  rate  the  child  had 
dreamt  to  some  purpose.  His  first  care  was  to  enjoin  the  most 
absolute  secrecy  upon. his  daughter;  in  this  respect,  however,  he 
was  secure,  for  she  had  discretion  far  beyond  her  years  or  sex. 
He  then  repaired  to  the  vault,  where  stood  the  statues  of  the  two 
alabaster  nymphs.  He  remarked  that  their  heads  were  turned 
from  the  portal,  and  that  the  regards  of  each  were  fixed  upon 
the  same  point  in  the  interior  of  the  building.  Lope  Sanchez 


364:  THE  WELL-GUAEDED   SECRET. 

could  not  but  admire  this  most  discreet  contrivance  for  guarding 
a  secret.  He  drew  a  line  from  the  eyes  of  the  statues  to  the 
point  of  regard,  made  a  private  mark  on  the  wall,  and  then  re- 
tired. 

All  day,  however,  the  mind  of  Lope  Sanchez  was  distracted 
with  a  thousand  cares.  He  could  not  help  hovering  within  dis- 
tant view  of  the  two  statues,  and  became  nervous  from  the  dread 
that  the  golden  secret  might  be  discovered.  Every  footstep  that 
approached  the  place  made  him  tremble.  He  would  have  given 
any  thing  could  he  but  have  turned  the  heads  of  the  statues, 
forgetting  that  they  had  looked  precisely  in  the  same  direction 
for  some  hundreds  of  years,  without  any  person  being  the  wiser. 

"  A  plague  upon  them,"  he  would  say  to  himself,  "  they'll 
betray  all ;  did  ever  mortal  hear  of  such  a  mode  of  guarding  a 
secret  ?"  Then  on  hearing  any  one  advance,  he  would  steal  off, 
as  though  his  very  lurking  near  the  place  would  awaken  suspi- 
cion. Then  he  would  return  cautiously,  and  peep  from  a  dis- 
tance to  see  if  every  thing  was  secure,  but  the  sight  of  the 
statues  would  again  call  forth  his  indignation.  "  Ay,  there  they 
stand,"  would  he  say,  "always  looking,  and  looking,  and  looking, 
just  where  they  should  not.  Confound  them  !  they  are  just  like 
all  their  sex ;  if  they  have  not  tongues  to  tattle  with,  they'll  be 
sure  to  do  it  with  their  eyes." 

At  length,  to  his  relief,  the  long  anxious  day  drew  to  a  close. 
The  sound  of  footsteps  was  no  longer  heard  in  the  echoing  halls 
of  the  Alhambra ;  the  last  stranger  passed  the  threshold,  the 
great  portal  was  barred  and  bolted,  and  the  bat  and  the  frog  and 
the  hooting  owl  gradually  resumed  their  nightly  vocations  in  the 
deserted  palace. 

Lope  Sanchez  waited,  however,  until  the  night  was  far  ad- 


THE  MISERY  OF  WEALTH.  365 

ranced  before  he  ventured  with  his  little  daughter  to  the  hall  of 
the  two  nymphs.  He  found  them  looking  as  knowingly  and 
mysteriously  as  ever  at  the  secret  place  of  deposit.  "  By  your 
leaves,  gentle  ladies,"  thought .  Lope  Sanchez,  as  he  passed  be- 
tween them,  "  I  will  relieve  you  from  this  charge  that  must  havo 
set  so  heavy  in  your  minds  for  the  last  two  or  three  centuries." 
He  accordingly  went  to  work  at  the  part  of  the  wall  which  he 
had  marked,  and  in  a  little  while  laid  open  a  concealed  recess, 
in  which  stood  two  great  jars  of  porcelain.  He  attempted  to 
draw  them  forth,  but  they  were  immovable,  until  touched  by 
the  innocent  hand  of  his  little  daughter.  With  her  aid  he  dis- 
lodged them  from  their  niche,  and  found,  to  his  great  joy,  that 
they  were  filled  with  pieces  of  Moorish  gold,  mingled  with  jewels 
and  precious  stones.  Before  daylight  he  managed  to  convey 
them  to  his  chamber,  and  left  the  two  guardian  statues  with 
their  eyes  still  fixed  on  the  vacant  wall. 

Lope  Sanchez  had  thus  on  a  sudden  become  a  rich  man ;  but 
riches,  as  usual,  brought  a  world  of  cares  to  which  he  had  hither- 
to been  a  stranger.  How  was  he  to  convey  away  his  wealth  with 
safety  ?  How  was  he  even  to  enter  upon  the  enjoyment  of  it 
without  awakening  suspicion  ?  Now,  too,  for  the  first  time  in 
his  life  the  dread  of  robbers  entered  into  his  mind.  He  looked 
with  terror  at  the  insecurity  of  his  habitation,  and  went  to  work 
to  barricade  the  doors  and  windows  ;  yet  after  all  his  precautions 
he  could  not  sleep  soundly.  His  usual  gayety  was  at  an  end,  he 
had  no  longer  a  joke  or  a  song  for  his  neighbors,  and,  in  short, 
became  the  most  miserable  animal  in  the  Alhambra.  His  old 
comrades  remarked  this  alteration,  pitied  him  heartily,  and  began 
to  desert  him  ;  thinking  he  must  be  falling  into  want,  and  in 
danger  of  looking  to  them  for  assistance.  Little  did  they  sus- 
pect that  his  only  calamity  was  riches. 


366  A  SPIRITUAL  COUNSELLOR. 

The  wife  of  Lope  Sanchez  shared  his  anxiety,  but  then  she 
had  ghostly  comfort.  We  ought  before  this  to  have  mentioned 
that  Lope,  being  rather  a  light  inconsiderate  little  man.  his  wife 
was  accustomed,  in  all  grave  matters,  to  seek  the  counsel  and 
ministry  of  her  confessor  Fray  Simon,  a  sturdy,  broad-shouldered, 
blue-bearded,  bullet-headed  friar  of  the  neighboring  convent  of 
San  Francisco,  who  was  in  fact  the  spiritual  comforter  of  half  the 
good  wives  of  the  neighborhood.  He  was  moreover  in  great 
esteem  among  divers  sisterhoods  of  nuns ;  who  requited  him  for 
his  ghostly  services  by  frequent  presents  of  those  little  dainties 
and  knick-knacks  manufactured  in  convents,  such  as  delicate  con- 
fections, sweet  biscuits,  and  bottles  of  spiced  cordials,  found  to 
be  marvellous  restoratives  after  fasts  and  vigils. 

Fray  Simon  thrived  in  the  exercise  of  his  functions.  His 
oily  skin  glistened  in  the  sunshine  as  he  toiled  up  the  hill  of 
the  Alhambra  on  a  sultry  day.  Yet  notwithstanding  his  sleek 
condition,  the  knotted  rope  round  his  waist  showed  the  austerity 
of  his  self-discipline  ;  the  multitude  doffed  their  caps  to  him  as 
a  mirror  of  piety,  and  even  the  dogs  scented  the  odor  of  sanctity 
that  exhaled  from  his  garments,  and  howled  from  their  kennels 
as  he  passed. 

Such  was  Fray  Simon,  the  spiritual  counsellor  of  the  comely 
wife  of  Lope  Sanchez ;  and  as  the  father  confessor  is  the  domestic 
confidant  of  women  in  humble  life  in  Spain,  he  was  soon  ac- 
quainted, in  great  secrecy,  with  the  story  of  the  hidden  treasure. 

The  friar  opened  his  eyes  and  mouth  and  crossed  himself  a 
dozen  times  at  the  news.  After  a  moment's  pause,  "  Daughter  ot 
iny  soul !"  said  he,  "  know  that  thy  husband  has  committed  a 
double  sin — a  sin  against  both  state  and  church !  The  treasure 
lie  hath  thus  seized  upon  for  himself,  being  found  in  the  roya? 


FIRST   FKUITS,  367 

domains,  belongs  of  course  to  the  crown ;  but  being  infidel  wealth, 
rescued  as  it  were  from  the  very  fangs  of  Satan,  should  be  devoted 
to  the  church.  Still,  however,  the  matter  my  be  accommodated. 
Bring  hither  thy  myrtle  wreath." 

When  the  good  father  beheld  it,  his  eyes  twinkled  more  than 
ever  with  admiration  of  the  size  and  beauty  of  the  emeralds. 
u  This,"  said  he,  "  being  the  first-fruits  of  this  discovery,  should 
be  dedicated  to  pious  purposes.  I  will  hang  it  up  as  a  votive 
offering  before  the  image  of  San  Francisco  in  our  chapel,  and 
will  earnestly  pray  to  him,  this  very  night,  that  your  husband  be 
permitted  to  remain  in  quiet  possession  of  your  wealth." 

The  good  dame  was  delighted  to  make  her  peace  with  heaven 
at  so  cheap  a  rate,  and  the  friar  putting  the  wreath  under  his 
mantle,  departed  with  saintly  steps  toward  his  convent. 

When  Lope  Sanchez  came  home,  his  wife  told  him  what  had 
passed.  He  was  excessively  provoked,  for  he  lacked  his  wife's 
devotion,  and  had  for  some  time  groaned  in  secret  at  the  domestic 
visitations  of  the  friar.  "Woman,"  said  he,  "what  hast  thou 
done  ?  thou  hast  put  every  thing  at  hazard  by  thy  tattling." 

"  What !"  cried  the  good  woman,  "  would  you  forbid  my  dis- 
burdening my  conscience  to  my  confessor  ?" 

"  No,  wife  !  confess  as  many  of  your  own  sins  as  you  please  j 
but  as  to  this  money-digging,  it  is  a  sin  of  my  own,  and  my  con- 
science is  very  easy  under  the  weight  of  it." 

There  was  no  use,  however,  in  complaining ;  the  secret  was 
told,  and,  like  water  spilled  on  the  sand,  was  not  again  to  be 
gathered.  Their  only  chance  was,  that  the  friar  would  be  discreet 

The  next  day,  while  Lope  Sanchez  was  abroad  there  was  a 
humble  knocking  at  the  door,  and  Fray  Simon  entered  with  meek 
and  demure  countenance. 


368  SAINTLY  CLAIMS. 

"  Daughter,"  said  he,  "  I  have  earnestly  prayed  to  San  Fran- 
cisco, and  he  has  heard  my  prayer.  In  the  dead  of  the  night  the 
saint  appeared  to  me  in  a  dream,  but  with  a  frowning  aspect 
(Why,'  said  he,  'dost  thou  pray  to  me  to  dispense  with  this 
treasure  of  the  Gentiles,  when  thou  seest  the  poverty  of  my 
chapel  ?  Go  to  the  house  of  Lope  Sanchez,  crave  in  my  name  » 
portion  of  the  Moorish  gold,  to  furnish  two  candlesticks  for  tiic 
main  altar,  and  let  him  possess  the  residue  in  peace.'  " 

When  the  good  woman  heard  of  this  vision,  she  crossed  herself 
with  awe.  and  going  to  the  secret  place  where  Lope  had  hid  the 
treasure,  she  filled  a  great  leathern  purse  with  pieces  of  Moorish 
gold,  and  gave  it  to  the  friar.  The  pious  monk  bestowed  upon 
her,  in  return,  benedictions  enough,  if  paid  by  Heaven,  to  enrich 
her  race  to  the  latest  posterity ;  then  slipping  the  purse  into  thr 
sleeve  of  his  habit,  he  folded  his  hands  upon  his  breast,  and 
departed  with  an  air  of  humble  thankfulness. 

When  Lope  Sanchez  heard  of  this  second  donation  to  the 
church,  he  had  well  nigh  lost  his  senses.  "  Unfortunate  man," 
cried  he,  "  what  will  become  of  me  ?  I  shall  be  robbed  by  peace 
meal ;  I  shall  be  ruined  and  brought  to  beggary  J" 

It  was  with  the  utmost  difficulty  that  his  wife  could  pacify 
him,  by  reminding  him  of  the  countless  wealth  that  yet  remained, 
and  how  considerate  it  was  for  San  Francisco  to  rest  contented 
with  so  small  a  portion. 

Unluckily,  Fray  Simon  had  a  number  of  poor  relations  to  be 
provided  for,  not  to  mention  some  half-dozen  sturdy  bullet-headed 
orphan  children,  and  destitute  foundlings  that  he  had  taken 
under  his  care.  He  repeated  his  visits,  therefore,  from  day  to 
day,  with  solicitations  on  behalf  of  Saint  Dominick,  Saint  Andrew, 
Saint  James,  until  poor  Lope  was  driven  to  despair,  and  found 


PREPARATIONS  FOR  FLIGHT.  369 

that  unless  he  got  out  of  the  reach  of  this  holy  friar,  hj  should  have 
to  make  peace-offerings  to  every  saint  in  the  calendar.  He  deter- 
mined, therefore,  to  pack  up  his  remaining  wealth,  beat  a  secret  re- 
treat in  the  night,  and  make  off  to  another  part  of  the  kingdom. 

Full  of  his  project,  he  bought  a  stout  mule  for  the  purpose, 
aid  tethered  it  in  a  gloomy  vault  underneath  the  tower  of  tho 
seven  floors ;  the  very  place  whence  the  Belludo,  or  goblin 
horse,  is  said  to  issue  forth  at  midnight,  and  scour  the  streets  of 
Granada,  pursued  by  a  pack  of  hell-hounds.  Lope  Sanchez  ha*1 
little  faith  in  the  story,  but  availed  himself  of  the  dread  occasio  *. 
ed  by  it,  knowing  that  no  one  would  be  likely  to  pry  into  the 
subterranean  stable  of  the  phantom  steed.  He  sent  off  his  family 
in  the  course  of  the  day  with  orders  to  wait  for  him  at  a  distant 
village  of  the  Vega.  As  the  night  advanced,  he  conveyed  his 
treasure  to  the  vault  under  the  tower,  and  having  loaded  his 
mule,  he  led  it  forth,  and  cautiously  descended  the  dusky  avenue. 

Honest  Lope  had  taken  his  measures  with  the  utmost  secrecy, 
imparting  them  to  no  one  but  the  faithful  wife  of  his  bosom.  By 
some  miraculous  revelation,  however,  they  became  known  to  Fray 
Simon.  The  zealous  friar  beheld  these  infidel  treasures  on  the 
point  of  slipping  for  ever  out  of  his  grasp,  and  determined  to 
have  one  more  dash  at  them  for  the  benefit  of  the  church  and 
San  Francisco.  Accordingly,  when  the  bells  had  rung  for  animas, 
and  all  the  Alhambra  was  quiet,  he  stole  out  of  his  convent,  and 
descending  through  the  Gate  of  Justice,  concealed  himself  among 
the  thickets  of  roses  and  laurels  that  border  the  great  avenue. 
Here  he  remained,  counting  the  quarters  of  hours  as  they  were 
sounded  on  the  bell  of  the  watchtower,  and  listening  to  the  dreaiy 
nootings  of  owls,  and  the  distant  barking  of  dogs  from  the  gipsy 
caverns. 

16* 


3TO  HELL  HOUNDS. 

At  length  he  heard  the  tramp  of  hoofs,  and,  through  the 
gloom  of  the  overshadowing  trees,  imperfectly  beheld  a  steed 
descending  the  avenue.  The  "sturdy  friar  chuckled  at  the  idea  of 
the  knowing  turn  he  was  about  to  serve  honest  Lope.  . 

Tucking  up  the  skirts  of  his  habit,  and  wriggling  like  a  ca 
watching  a  mouse,  he  waited  until  his  prey  was  directly  befor 
Lim,  when  darting  forth  from  his  leafy  covert,  and  putting  one 
hand  on  the  shoulder  and  the  other  on  the  crupper,  he  made  a 
vault  that  would  not  have  disgraced  the  most  experienced  master 
of  equitation,  and  alighted  well-forked  astride  the  steed.  "Ah  ha !" 
said  the  sturdy  friar,  "  we  shall  now  see  who  best  understands  the 
game."  He  had  scarce  uttered  the  words  when  the  mule  began 
to  kick,  and  rear,  and  plunge,  and  then  set  off  full  speed  down 
the  hill.  The  friar  attempted  to  check  him,  but  in  vain.  He 
bounded  from  rock  to  rock,  and  bush  to  bush ;  the  friar's  habit 
was  torn  to  ribbons  and  fluttered  in  the  wind,  his  shaven  poll 
received  many  a  hard  knock  from  the  branches  of  the  trees,  and 
many  a  scratch  from  the  brambles.  To  add  to  his  terror  and 
distress,  he  found  a  pack  of  seven  hounds  in  full  cry  at  his  heels, 
and  perceived,  too  late,  that  he  was  actually  mounted  upon  the 
terrible  Belludo ! 

Away  then  they  went,  according  to  the  ancient  phrase,  "  pull 
devil,  pull  friar,"  down  the  great  avenue,  across  the  Plaza  Nueva, 
along  the  Zacatin,  around  the  Vivarrambla — never  did  huntsman 
and  hound  make  a  more  furious  run,  or  more  infernal  uproar. 
In  yam  did  the  friar  invoke  every  saint  in  the  calendar,  and  the 
holy  Virgin  into  the  bargain ;  every  time  he  mentioned  a  name  of 
the  kind  it  was  like  a  fresh  application  of  the  spur,  and  made  the 
Belludo  bound  as  high  as  a  house.  Through  the  remainder  of 
the  night  was  the  unlucky  Fray  Simon  carried  hither  and  thither 


THE  BEDEVILLED   FKIAK.  371 

and  whither  he  would  not,  until  every  bone  in  his  body  ached, 
and  he  suffered  a  loss  of  leather  too  grievous  to  be  mentioned. 
At  length  the  crowing  of  a  cock  gave  the  signal  of  returning  day. 
At  the  sound  the  goblin  steed  wheeled  about,  and  galloped  back 
for  his  tower.  Again  he  scoured  the  Vivarrambla,  the  Zacatin, 
the  Plaza  Nueva,  and  the  avenue  of  fountains,  the  seven  dogs 
yelling,  and  barking,  and  leaping  up,  and  snapping  at  the  heels 
of  the  terrified  friar.  The  first  streak  of  day  had  just  appeared 
as  they  reached  the  tower ;  here  the  goblin  steed  kicked  up  his 
heels,  sent  the  friar  a  somerset  through  the  air,  plunged  into  the 
dark  vault  followed  by  the  infernal  pack,  and  a  profound  silence 
succeeded  to  the  late  deafening  clamor. 

Was  ever  so  diabolical  a  trick  played  off  upon  a  holy  friar? 
A  peasant  going  to  his  labors  at  early  dawn  found  the  unfortu- 
nate Fray  Simon  lying  under  a  fig-tree  at  the  foot  of  the  tower, 
but  so  bruised  and  bedevilled  that  he  could  neither  speak  nor 
move.  He  was  conveyed  with  all  care  and  tenderness  to  his  cell, 
and  the  story  went  that  he  had  been  waylaid  and  maltreated  by 
robbers.  A  day  or  two  elapsed  before  he  recovered  the  use  of 
his  limbs ;  he  consoled  himself,  in  the  meantime,  with  the  thoughts 
that  though  the  mule  with  the  treasure  had  escaped  him,  he  had 
previously  had  some  rare  pickings  at  the  infidel  spoils.  His  first 
care  on  being  able  to  use  his  limbs,  was  to  search  beneath  his  pa,7 
let,  where  he  had  secreted  the  myrtle  wreath  and  the  leather., 
pouches  of  gold  extracted  from  the  piety  of  dame  Sanchez.  Wha1 
was  his  dismay  at  finding  the  wreath,  in  effect,  but  a  withere'» 
branch  of  myrtle,  and  the  leathern  pouches  filled  with  sand  an 
gravel ! 

Fray  Simon,  with  all  his  chagrin,  had  the  discretion  to  hold 
his  tongue,  for  to  betray  the  secret  might  draw  on  him  the  rid> 


372  DON  LOPE  AND  HIS  FAMILY. 

cule  of  the  public,  and  the  punishment  of  his  superior,  it  was  not 
until  many  years  afterwards,  on  his  death-bed,  that  he  revealed 
to  his  confessor  his  nocturnal  ride  on  the  .Belludo. 

Nothing  was  heard  of  Lope  Sanchez  for  a  long  time  after  hie 
disappearance  from  the  Alhambra.  His  memory  was  always 
cherished  as  that  of  a  merry  companion,  though  it  was  feared, 
from  the  care  and  melancholy  observed  in  his  conduct  shortly  be- 
fore his  mysterious  departure,  that  poverty  and  distress  had 
driven  him  to  some  extremity.  Some  years  afterwards  one  of 
his  old  companions,  an  invalid  soldier,  being  at  Malaga,  was 
knocked  down  and  nearly  run  over  by  a  coach  and  six.  The  car- 
riage stopped ;  an  old  gentleman  magnificently  dressed,  with  a 
bag-wig  and  sword,  stepped  out  to  assist  the  poor  invalid.  "What 
was  the  astonishment  of  the  latter  to  behold  in  this  grand  cava- 
lier his  old  friend  Lope  Sanchez,  who  was  actually  celebrating  the 
marriage  of  his  daughter  Sanchica  with  one  of  the  first  grandees 
in  the  land; 

The  carriage  contained  the  bridal  party.  There  was  dame 
Sanchez,  now  grown  as  round  as  a  barrel,  and  dressed  out  with 
feathers  and  jewels,  and  necklace?  »f  pearls,  and  necklaces  of 
diamonds,  and  rings  on  every  finger,  altogether  a  finery  of  ap- 
parel that  had  not  been  seen  since  the  days  of  Queen  Sheba.  The 
little  Sanchica  had  now  grown  to  be  a  woman,  and  for  grace  an/ 
beauty  might  have  been  mistaken  for  a  duchess,  if  not  a  princce" 
outright.  The  bridegroom  sat  beside  her — rather  a  witLexe-1* 
spindle-shanked  little  man,  but  this  only  proved  him  to  be  of  th  r 
true-blue  blood ;  a  legitimate  Spanish  grandee  being  rarely  abo"?o 
three  cubits  in  stature.  The  match  had  been  of  the  mother's 
making. 

Riches  had  not  spoiled  the  heart  of  honest  Lope.     He  kept 


MONUMENTS  OF  FEMALE   SECRECY.  373 

his  old  comrade  with  him  for  several  days ;  feasted  him  like  a 
king,  took  him  to  plays  and  bull-fights,  and  at  length  sent  him 
away  rejoicing,  with  a  big  bag  of  money  for  himself,  and  another 
to  be  distributed  among  his  ancient  messmates  of  the  Alhambra. 
Lope  always  gave  out  that  a  rich  brother  had  died  in  Amer- 
ica and  left  him  heir  to  a  copper  mine ;  but  the  shrewd  gossips 
of  the  Alhambra  insist  that  his  wealth  was  all  derived  from  his 
having  discovered  the  secret  guarded  by  the  two  marble  nymphs 
of  the  Alhambra.  It  is  remarked  that  these  very  discreet  sta- 
tues continue,  even  unto  the  present  day,  with  their  eyes  fixed 
most  significantly  on  the  same  part  of  the  wall;  which  leads 
many  to  suppose  there  is  still  some  hidden  treasure  remaining 
there  well  worthy  the  attention  of  the  enterprising  traveller. 
Though  others,  and  particularly  all  female  visitors,  regard  them 
with  great  complacency  as  lasting  monuments  of  the  fact  that 
women  con  keep  a  secret. 

16* 


THE  CRUSADE  OF  THE  GRAM)  MASTER  OF  ALCAFTABA 

IN  the  course  of  a  morning's  research  among  the  old  chronicles  in 
the  Library  of  the  University,  I  came  upon  a  little  episode  in  the 
history  of  Granada,  so  strongly  characteristic  of  the  bigot  zeal, 
which  sometimes  inflamed  the  Christian  enterprises  against  this 
splendid  but  devoted  city,  that  I  was  tempted  to  draw  it  forth 
from  the  parchment-bound  volume  in  which  it  lay  entombed  and 
submit  it  to  the  reader. 

In  the  year  of  redemption,  1394,  there  was  a  valiant  and  de- 
vout grand  master  of  Alcantara,  named  Martin  Yanez  de  Bar- 
budo,  who  was  inflamed  with  a  vehement  desire  to  serve  God  and 
fight  the  Moors.  Unfortunately  for  this  brave  and  pious  cava- 
lier, a  profound  peace  existed  between  the  Christian  and  Moslem 
powers.  Henry  III.  had  just  ascended  the  throne  of  Castile, 
and  Yusef  ben  Mohammed  "had  succeeded  to  the  throne  of  Gra- 
nada, and  both  were  disposed  to  continue  the  peace  which  had 
prevailed  between  their  fathers.  The  grand  master  looked  with 
repining  at  Moorish  banners  and  weapons,  which  decorated  his 
castle  hall,  trophies  of  the  exploits  of  his  predecessors ;  and  re- 
pined at  his  fate  to  exist  in  a  period  of  such  inglorious  tranquillity. 

At  length  his  impatience  broke  through  all  bounds,  and  see- 
ing that  he  could  find  no  public  war  in  which  to  engage,  he  re- 


THE  ZEALOT.  375 

Solved  to  carve  out  a  little  war  for  himself.  Such  at  least  is  the 
account  given  by  some  ancient  chronicles,  though  others  give  the 
following  as  the  motive  for  this  sudden  resolution  to  go  cam- 
paigning. 

As  the  grand  master  was  one  day  seated  at  table  with  gevevnl 
of  his  cavaliers,  a  man  suddenly  entered  the  hall ;  tall,  meagre 
and  bony,  with  haggard  countenance  and  fiery  eye.  All  recognized 
him  for  a  hermit,  who  had  been  a  soldier  in  his  youth,  but  now 
led  a  life  of  penitence  in  a  cave.  He  advanced  to  the  table  and 
struck  upon  it  with  a  fist  that  seemed  of  iron.  "  Cavaliers," 
said  he,  "why  sit  ye  here  idly,  with  your  weapons  resting 
against  the  wall,  while  the  enemies  of  the  faith  lord  it  over  the 
fairest  portion  of  the  land?" 

"  Holy  father,  what  wouldst  thou  have  us  do,"  asked  the 
grand  master,  "  seeing  the  wars  are  over  and  our  swords  bound 
up  by  treaties  of  peace  ?" 

"  Listen  to  my  words,"  replied  the  hermit.  "  As  I  was  seat- 
ed late  at  night  at  the  entrance  of  my  cave,  contemplating  the 
heavens,  I  fell  into  a  reverie,  and  a  wonderful  vision  was  present- 
ed to  me.  I  beheld  the  moon,  a  mere  crescent,  yet  luminous  as 
the  brightest  silver,  and  it  hung  in  the  heavens  over  the  kingdom 
of  Granada.  While  I  was  looking  at  it,  behold  there  shot  forth 
from  the  firmament  a  blazing  star,  which,  as  it  went,  drew  after 
it  all  the  stars  of  heaven  ;  and  they  assailed  the  moon  and  drove 
it  from  the  skies  ;  and  the  whole  firmament  was  filled  with  the 
glory  of  that  blazing  star.  While  mine  eyes  were  yet  dazzled 
by  this  wondrous  sight,  some  one  stood  by  me  with  snowy  wings 
and  a  shining  countenance.  '  Oh  man  of  prayer/  said  he,  '  get 
thee  to  the  grand  master  of  Alcantara  and  tell  him  of  the  vision 
thou  hast  beheld.  He  is  the  blazing  star,  destined  to  drive  the 


376          THE  AMBASSADORS  MALTREATED. 

crescent,  the  Moslem  emblem,  from  the  land.  Let  him  boldly 
draw  the  sword  and  continue  the  good  work  begun  by  Pelazo  of 
old,  and  victory  will  assuredly  attend  his  banner.'  " 

The  grand  master  listened  to  the  hermit  as  to  a  messenger 
irom  heaven,  and  followed  his  counsel  in  all  things.  By  his  ad- 
vice he  dispatched  two  of  his  stoutest  warriors,  armed  cap-a-pie, 
on  an  embassy  to  the  Moorish  king.  They  entered  the  gates  of 
Granada  without  molestation,  as  the  nations  were  at  peace  ;  and 
made  their  way  to  the  Alhambra,  where  they  were  promptly  ad- 
mitted to  the  king,  who  received  them  in  the  Hall  of  Ambassa- 
dors. They  delivered  their  message  roundly  and  hardily.  "  We 
acme,  oh  king,  from  Don  Martin  Tanez  de  Barbudo,  grand  mas- 
ter of  Alcantara ;  who  affirms  the  faith  of  Jesus  Christ  to  be 
true  and  holy,  and  that  of  Mahomet  false  and  detestable,  and  he 
challenges  thee  to  maintain  the  contrary,  hand  to  hand,  in  single 
combat.  Shouldst  thou  ^refuse,  he  offers  to  combat  with  one 
hundred  cavaliers  against  two  hundred ;  or,  in  like  proportion, 
to  the  number  of  one  thousand,  always  allowing  thy  faith  a  dou- 
ble number  of  champions.  Remember,  oh  king,  that  thou  canst 
not  refuse  this  challenge ;  since  thy  prophet,  knowing  the  im- 
possibility of  maintaining  his  doctrines  by  argument,  has  com- 
manded his  followers  to  enforce  them  with  the  sword." 

The  beard  of  king  Jusef  trembled  with  indignation.  "  The 
master  of  Alcantara,"  said  he,  "  is  a  madman  to  send  such  a  mes- 
eag&;and  ye  are  saucy  knaves  to  bring  it." 

So  saying,  he  ordered  the  ambassadors  to  be  thrown  into  a 
dungeon,  by  way  of  giving  them  a  lesson  in  diplomacy ;  and 
they  were  roughly  treated  on  their  way  thither  by  the  populace, 
who  were  exasperated  at  this  insult  to  their  sovereign  and  their 
aith. 


A  MAN  OF  ONE  IDEA.  377 

The  grand  master  of  Alcantara  could  scarcely  credit  the 
tidings  of  the  maltreatment  of  his  messengers ;  but  the  hermit 
rejoiced  when  they  were  repeated  to  him.  "  God,"  said  he,  "  has 
blinded  this  infidel  king  for  his  downfall.  Since  he  has  sent 
no  reply  to  thy  defiance,  consider  it  accepted.  Marshal  thy 
forces,  therefore ;  march  forward  to  Granada ;  pause  not  until 
thou  seest  the  gate  of  Elvira.  A  miracle  will  be  wrought  in 
thy  favor.  There  will  be  a  great  battle ;  the  enemy  will  be 
overthrown  ;  but  not  one  of  thy  soldiers  will  be  slain." 

The  grand  master  called  upon  every  warrior  zealous  in  the 
Christian  cause  to  aid  him  in  this  crusade.  In  a  little  while 
three  hundred  horsemen  and  a  thousand  foot-soldiers  rallied  un- 
der his  standard.  The  horsemen  were  veterans ;  seasoned  to 
battle  and  well  armed  ;  but  the  infantry  were  raw  and  undisci- 
plined. The  victory,  however,  was  to  be  miraculous ;  the  grand 
master  was  a  man  of  surpassing  faith,  and  knew  that  the  weaker 
the  means  the  greater  the  miracle.  He  sallied  forth  confidently, 
therefore,  with  his  little  army,  and  the  hermit  strode  ahead 
bearing  a  crv^s  on  the  end  of  a  long  pole,  and  beneath  it  the 
pennon  of  the  order  of  Alcantara. 

As  they  approached  the  city  of  Cordova  they  were  overtaken 
by  messengers,  spurring  in  all  haste,  bearing  missives  from  the 
Castilian  monarch,  forbidding  the  enterprise.  The  grand  mas- 
ter was  a  man  of  a  single  mind  and  a  single  will ;  in  other  words, 
a  man  of  one  idea.  "  Were  I  on  any  other  errand,"  said  he,  "  I 
should  obey  these  letters  as  coming  from  my  lord  the  king ;  but 
I  am  sent  by  a  higher  power  than  the  king.  In  compliance  with 
its  commands  I  have  advanced  the  cross  thus  far  against  the 
infidels ;  and  it  would  be  treason  to  the  standard  of  Christ  to 
turn  back  without  achieving  my  errand." 


378  EEMONSTEA^CES. 

So  the  trumpets  were  sounded ;  the  cross  was  again  reared  aloft} 
and  the  band  of  zealots  resumed  their  march.  As  they  passed 
through  the  streets  of  Cordova  the  people  were  amazed  at  be- 
holding a  hermit  bearing  a  cross  at  the  head  of  a  warlike  multi- 
tude ;  but  when  they  learnt  that  a  miraculous  victory  was  to  be 
effected  and  Granada  destroyed,  laborers  and  artisans  threw  by 
the  implements  of  their  handicrafts  and  joined  in  the  crusade  ; 
while  a  mercenary  rabble  followed  on  with  a  view  of  plunder. 

A  number  of  cavaliers  of  rank  who  lacked  faith  in  the  pro- 
mised miracle,  and  dreaded  the  consequences  of  this  unprovoked 
irruption  into  the  country  of  the  Moor,  assembled  at  the  bridge 
of  the  Guadalquivir  and  endeavored  to  dissuade  the  grand  mas- 
ter from  crossing.  He  was  deaf  to  prayers,  expostulations  or 
menaces ;  his  followers  were  enraged  at  this  opposition  to  the 
cause  of  the  faith ;  they  put  an  end  to  the  parley  by  their  cla- 
mors ;  the  cross  was  again  reared  and  borne  triumphantly  across 
the  bridge. 

The  multitude  increased  as  it  proceeded ;  by  the  time  the 
grand  master  had  reached  Alcala  la  Real,  which  stands  on  a 
mountain  overlooking  the  Yega  of  Granada,  upwards  of  five 
thousand  men  on  foot  had  joined  his  standard. 

At  Alcala  came  forth  Alonzo  Fernandez  de  Cordova,  Lord  of 
Aguilar,  his  brother  Diego  •  Fernandez,  Marshal  of  Castile,  and 
other  cavaliers  of  valor  and  experience.  Placing  themselves  in 
the  way  of  the  grand  master,  "What  madness  is  this,  Don 
Martin  ?"  said  they ;  "  the  Moorish  king  has  two  hundred  thou- 
sand foot-soldiers  and  five  thousand  horse  within  his  walls ;  what 
can  you  and  your  handful  of  cavaliers  and  your  noisy  rabble  do 
against  such  force  ?  Bethink  you  of  the  disasters  which  have 
befallen  other  Christian  commanders,  who  have  crossed  these 


EXPOSTULATIONS.  379 

rocky  "borders  with  ten  times  your  force.  Think,  too,  of  the  mis- 
chief that  will  be  brought  upon  this  kingdom  by  an  outrage  of 
the  kind  committed  by  a  man  of  your  rank  and  importance,  a 
grand  master  of  Alcantara.  Pause,  we  entreat  you,  while  the 
truce  is  yet  unbroken.  Await  within  the  borders  the  reply  of  the 
king  of  Granada  to  your  challenge.  If  he  agree  to  meet  you 
singly,  or  with  champions  two  or  three,  it  will  be  your  individual 
contest,  and  fight  it  out  in  God's  name ;  if  he  refuse,  you  may 
return  home  with  great  honor  and  the  disgrace  will  fall  upon  the 
Moors/' 

Several  cavaliers,  who  had  hitherto  followed  the  grand 
master  with  devoted  zeal,  were  moved  by  these  expostulations, 
and  suggested  to  him  the  policy  of  listening  to  this  advice. 

"  Cavaliers,"  said  he,  addressing  himself  to  Alonzo  Fernandez 
de  Cordova  and  his  companions  ;  "  I  thank  you  for  the  counsel 
you  have  so  kindly  bestowed  upon  me,  and  if  I  were  merely  in 
pursuit  of  individual  glory  I  might  be  swayed  by  it:  But  I  am 
engaged  to  achieve  a  great  triumph  of  the  faith,  which  God  is  to 
effect  by  miracle  through  my  means.  As  to  you,  cavaliers,'3  turn- 
ing to  those  of  his  followers  who  had  wavered,  "if  your  hearts  fail 
you,  or  you  repent  of  having  put  your  hands  to  this  good  work  ; 
return  in  God's  name,  and  my  blessing  go  with  you.  .  For  myself, 
though  I  have  none  to  stand  by  me  but  this  holy  hermit,  yet  will 
I  assuredly  proceed ;  until  I  have  planted  this  sacred  standard 
on  the  walls  of  Granada,  or  perished  in  the  attempt." 

"Don  Martin  Yanez  de  Barbudo,"  replied  the  cavaliers,  "we 
are  not  men  to  turn  our  backs  upon  our  commander,  however 
rash  his  enterprise.  We  spoke  but  in  caution.  Lead  on,  there- 
fore, and  if  it  be  to  the  death,  be  assured  to  the  death  we  wiU 
follow  thee." 


380 


THE  ATALAYA. 


By  this  time  the  common  soldiers  became  impatient.  «  For 
ward !  forward  !"  shouted  they.  "  Forward  in  the  cause  of  faith." 
So  the  grand  master  gave  signal,  the  hermit  again  reared  tho 
cross  aloft,  and  they  poured  down  a  defile  of  the  mountain,  with 
solemn  chants  of  triumph. 

That  night  they  encamped  at  the  river  of  Azores,  and  the  next 
morning,  which  was  Sunday,  crossed  the  borders.  Their  first 
pause  was  at  an  atalaya  or  solitary  tower,  built  upon  a  rock  ;  a 
frontier  post  to  keep  a  watch  upon  the  border,  and  give  notice  of 
invasion.  It  was  thence  called  el  Torre  del  Exea  (the  tower  of 
the  spy).  The  grand  master  halted  before  it  and  summoned  its 
petty  garrison  to  surrender.  He  was  answered  by  a  shower  of 
stones  and  arrows,  which  wounded  him  in  the  hand  and  killed 
three  of  his  mon. 

"  How  is  this,  father  ?"  said  he  to  the  hermit,  "  you  assured 
me  that  not  one  of  my  followers  would  be  slain  !" 

"  True,  my  son  ;  but  I  meant  in  the  great  battle  of  the  infidel 
king;  what  need  is  there  of  miracle  to  aid  in  the  capture  of  a 
petty  tower  ?" 

The  grand  master  was  satisfied.  He  ordered  wood  to  be 
piled  against  the  door  of  the  tower  to  burn  it  down.  In  the 
mean  time  provisions  were  unloaded  from  the  sumpter-mules, 
and  the  crusaders,  withdrawing  beyond  bow-shot,  sat  down  on 
the  grass  to  a  repast  to  strengthen  them  for  the  arduous  day's 
work  before  them.  While  thus  engaged,  they  were  startled  by 
the  sudden  appearance  of  a  great  Moorish  host.  The  atalayas 
had  given  the  alarm  by  fire  and  smoke  from  the  mountain  tops 
of  "  an  enemy  across  the  border,"  and  the  king  of  Granada  had 
uallied  forth  with  a  great  force  to  the  encounter. 

The  crusaders,  nearly  taken  by  surprise,  flew  to  arms  and 


THE  BATTLE.  381 

prepared  for  battle.  The  grand  master  ordered  his  three 
hundred  horsemen  to  dismount  and  fight  on  foot  in  support  of 
the  infantry.  The  Moors,  however,  charged  so  suddenly  that  they 
separated  the  cavaliers  from  the  foot-soldiers  and  prevented  their 
uniting.  The  grand  master  gave  the  old  war  cry,  "  Santiago ! 
Santiago !  and  close  Spain  !"  He  and  his  knights  breasted  the 
fury  of  the  battle,  but  were  surrounded  by  a  countless  host  and 
assailed  with  arrows,  stones,  darts,  and  arquebuses.  Still  they 
fought  fearlessly,  and  made  prodigious  slaughter.  The  hermit 
mingled  in  the  hottest  of  the  fight.  In  one  hand  he  bore  the 
cross,  in  the  other  he  brandished  a  sword,  with  which  he  dealt 
about  him  like  a  maniac,  slaying  several  of  the  enemy,  until  he 
sank  to  the  ground  covered  with  wounds.  The  grand  master 
saw  him  fall,  and  saw  too  late  the  fallacy  of  his  prophecies. 
Despair,  however,  only  made  him  fight  the  more  fiercely,  until  he 
also  fell  overpowered  by  numbers.  His  devoted  cavaliers  emulat- 
ed his  holy  zeal.  Not  one  turned  his  back  nor  asked  for  mercy  ; 
all  fought  until  they  fell.  As  to  the  foot-soldiers,  many  were 
killed,  many  taken  prisoners  :  the  residue  escaped  to  Alcala  la 
Real.  When  the  Moors  came  to  strip  the  slain,  the  wounds  of 
the  cavaliers  were  all  found  to  be  in  front. 

Such  was  the  catastrophe  of  this  fanatic  enterprise.  The 
Moors  vaunted  it  as  a  decisive  proof  of  the  superior  sanctity  of 
their  faith,  and  extolled  their  king  to  the  skies  when  he  returned 
in  triumph  to  Granada. 

As  it  was  satisfactorily  shown  tljat  this  crusade  was  the 
enterprise  of  an  individual  and  contrary  to  the  express  orders  of 
the  king  of  Castile,  the  peace  of  the  two  kingdoms  was  not 
interrupted.  Nay,  the  Moors  evinced  a  feeling  of  respect  for  the 
valor  of  the  unfortunate  grand  master,  and  readily  gave  up  his 


382  THE  FUNEKAL   PROCESSION. 

body  to  Don  Alonzo  Fernandez  de  Cordova,  who  came  from 
Alcala  to  seek  it.  The  Christians  of  the  frontier  united  in  pav- 
ing the  last  sad  honors  to  his  memory.  His  body  was  placed 
upon  a  bier,  covered  with  the  pennon  of  the  order  of  Alcantara ; 
and  the  broken  cross,  the  emblem  of  his  confident  hopes  and  fatal 
disappointment,  was  borne  before  it.  In  this  way  his  remains 
were  carried  back  in  funeral  procession,  through  the  mountain 
tract  which  he  had  traversed  so  resolutely.  Wherever  it  passed, 
through  a  town  or  village,  the  populace  followed,  with  tears  and 
lamentations,  bewailing  him  as  a  valiant  knight  and  a  martyr  to 
the  faith.  His  body  was  interred  in  the  chapel  of  the  convent 
of  Santa  Maria  de  Almocovara,  and  on  his  sepulchre  may  still 
be  seen  engraven  in  quaint  and  antique  Spanish  the  following 
testimonial  to  his  bravery : 

"HERE  LIES  ONE  WHOSE  HEART  NEVER  KNEW  FEAR." 
(Aqui  yaz  aquel  qne  par  neua  cosa  nunca  eve  pavor  en  seu  corazon.)* 
*  ToiToe.  Hist.  Ord.  Alcdntara.    Cron.  Enrique  III.,  por  Pedro  Lopez  do  Ayala. 


SPANISH  ROMANCE. 

IN  the  latter  part  of  my  sojourn  in  the  Alhambra,  I  made  frequent 
descents  into  the  Jesuit's  Library  of  the  University ;  and  relished 
more  and  more  the  old  Spanish  chronicles,  which  I  found  there 
bound  in  parchment.  I  delight  in  those  quaint  histories  which 
treat  of  the  times  when  the  Moslems  maintained  a  foothold  in  the 
Peninsula.  With  all  their  bigotry  and  occasional  intolerance, 
they  are  full  of  noble  acts  and  generous  sentiments,  and  have  a 
high,  spicy,  oriental  flavor,  not  to  be  found  in  other  records  of  the 
times,  which  were  merely  European.  In  fact,  Spain,  even  at  the 
present  day,  is  a  country  apart ;  severed  in  history,  habits,  man- 
ners, and  modes  of  thinking,  from  all  the  rest  of  Europe.  It  is 
a  romantic  country ;  but  its  romance  has  none  of  the  sentimen- 
tality of  modern  European  romance ;  it  is  chiefly  derived  from 
the  brilliant  regions  of  the  East,  and  from  the  high-minded  school 
of  Saracenic  chivalry. 

The  Arab  invasion  and  conquest  brought  a  higher  civilization, 
and  a  nobler  style  of  thinking,  into  Gothic  Spain.  The  Arabs 
were  a  quick-witted,  sagacious,  proud-spirited,  and  poetical  people, 
and  were  imbued  with  oriental  science  and  literature.  Wherever 
they  established  a  seat  of  power,  it  became  a  rallying  place  for 
the  learned  and  ingenious ;  and  they  softened  and  refined  the 


384:  RIVAL   COURTESIES. 

people  whom  they  conquered.  By  degrees,  occupancy  seemed  to 
give  them  an  hereditary  right  to  their  foothold  in  the  land ;  they 
ceased  to  be  looked  upon  as  invaders,  and  were  regarded  as  rival 
neighbors.  The  peninsula,  broken  up  into  a  variety  of  states, 
both  Christian  and  Moslem,  became,  for  centuries,  a  great  cam- 
paigning ground,  where  the  art  of  war  seemed  to  be  the  principal 
business  of  man,  and  was  carried  to  the  highest  pitch  of  romantic 
chivalry.  The  original  ground  of  hostility,  a  difference  of  faith, 
gradually  lost  its  rancor.  Neighboring  states,  of  opposite  creeds, 
were  occasionally  linked  together  in  alliances,  offensive  and  defen- 
sive ;  so  that  the  cross  and  crescent  were  to  be  seen  side  by  side 
fighting  against  some  common  enemy.  In  times  of  peace,  too 
the  noble  youth  of  either  faith  resorted  to  the  same  cities,  Chris- 
tian or  Moslem,  to  school  themselves  in  military  science.  Even 
in  the  temporary  truces  of  sanguinary  wars,  the  warriors  who  had 
recently  striven  together  in  the  deadly  conflicts  of  the  field,  laid 
aside  their  animosity,  met  at  tournaments,  jousts,  and  other  mili- 
tary festivities,  and  exchanged  the  courtesies  of  gentle  and  gen- 
erous spirits.  Thus  the  opposite  races  became  frequently  mingled 
together  in  peaceful  intercourse,  or  if  any  rivalry  took  place, 
it  was  in  those  high  courtesies  and  nobler  acts,  which  bespeak 
the  accomplished  cavalier.  Warriors,  of  opposite  creeds,  be- 
came ambitious  of  transcending  each  other  in  magnanimity  aa 
well  as  valor.  Indeed,  the  chivalric  virtues  were  refined  upon  to 
a  degree  sometimes  fastidious  and  constrained ;  but  at  other 
times,  inexpressibly  noble  and  affecting.  The  annals  of  the 
times  teem  with  illustrious  instances  of  high-wrought  courtesy, 
romantic  generosity,  lofty  disinterestedness,  and  punctilious 
honor,  that  warm  the  very  soul  to  read  them.  These  have  fur- 
nished themes  for  national  plays  and  poems,  or  have  been  cele- 
I 


SPANISH   ROMANCE.  385 

bratcd  in  those  all-pervading  ballads,  which  are  as  the  life-breath 
of  the  people,  and  thus  have  continued  to  exercise  an  influence 
on  the  national  character,  which  centuries  of  vicissitude  and  de- 
cline have  not  been  able  to  destroy ;  so  that,  with  all  their  faults, 
and  they  are  many,  the  Spaniards,  even  at  the  present  day,  are, 
on  many  points,  the  most  high-minded  and  proud-spirited  people 
of  Europe.  It  is  true,  the  romance  of  feeling  derived  from  the 
sources  I  have  mentioned,  has,  like  all  other  romance,  its  affecta- 
tions and  extremes.  It  renders  the  Spaniard  at  times  pompous 
and  grandiloquent ;  prone  to  carry  the  '  pundonor,'  or  point  of 
honor,  beyond  the  bounds  of  sober  sense  and  sound  morality ; 
disposed,  in  £he  midst  of  poverty,  to  affect  the  '  grande  caballero,' 
and  to  look  down  with  sovereign  disdain  upon  '  arts  mechanical,' 
and  all  the  gainful  pursuits  of  plebeian  life ;  but  this  very  infla- 
tion of  spirit,  while  it  fills  his  brain  with  vapors,  lifts  him  above 
a  thousand  meannesses ;  and  though  it  often  keeps  him  in  indi- 
gence, ever  protects  him  from  vulgarity. 

In  the  present  day,  when  popular  literature  is  running  into 
the  low  levels  of  life,  and  luxuriating  on  the  vices  and  follies  of 
mankind ;  and  when  the  universal  pursuit  of  gain  is  trampling 
down  the  early  growth  of  poetic  feeling,  and  wearing  out  the  ver- 
dure of  the  soul,  I  question  whether  it  would  not  .be  of  service 
for  the  reader  occasionally  to  turn  to  these  records  of  prouder 
times  and  loftier  modes  of  thinking ;  and  to  steep  himself  to  the 
very  lips  in  old  Spanish  romance. 

With  these  preliminary  suggestions,  the  fruit  of  a  morning's 
reading  and  rumination,  in  the  old  Jesuit's  Library  of  the  Uni- 
versity, I  will  give  him  a  legend  in  point,  drawn  forth  from  one 
of  the  venerable  chronicles  alluded  to. 


17 


LEGEND  OF  DON  MUNIO  SMCHO  DE  HINOJOSA. 

IN  the  cloisters  of  the  ancient  Benedictine  convent  of  San  Do 
mingo;  at  Silos,  in  Castile,  are  the  mouldering  yet  magnificent 
monuments  of  the  once  powerful  and  chivalrous  family  of  Hino- 
josa.  Among  these  reclines  the  marble  figure  of  a  knight,  in 
complete  armor,  with  the  hands  pressed  together,  as  if  in  prayer 
On  one  side  of  his  tomb  is  sculptured  in  relief  a  band  of  Chris 
tian  cavaliers,  capturing  a  cavalcade  of  male  and  female  Moors 
on  the,  other  side,  the  same  cavaliers  are  represented  kneeling 
before  an  altar.  The  tomb,  like  most  of  the  neighboring  monu- 
ments, is  almost  in  ruins,  and  the  sculpture  is  nearly  unintelli- 
gible, excepting  to  the  keen  eye  of  the  antiquary.  The  story 
connected  with  the  sepulchre,  however,  is  still  preserved  in  the 
old  Spanish  chronicles,  and  is  to  the  following  purport. 


IN  old  times,  several  hundred  years  ago,  there  was  a  noble  Cas- 
tilian  cavalier,  named  Don  Munio  Sancho  de  Hinojosa,  lord  of 
a  border  castle,  which  had  stood  the  brunt  of  many  a  Moorish 
foray.  He  had  seventy  horsemen  as  his  household  troops,  all  of 


A   MOORISH   CAVALCADE.  387 

the  ancient  Castilian  proof;  stark  warriors,  hard  riders,  and  men 
of  iron  ;  with  these  he  scoured  the  Moorish  lands,  and  made  his 
name  terrible  throughout  the  borders.  His  castle  hall  was  cover- 
ed with  banners,  cimeters,  and  Moslem  helms,  the  trophies  of  his 
prowess.  Don  Munio  was,  moreover,  a  keen  huntsman ;  and  re- 
joiced in  hounds  of  all  kinds,  steeds  for  the  chase,  and  hawks 
for  the  towering  sport  of  falconry.  When  not  engaged  in  war- 
fare, his  delight  was  to  beat  up  the  neighboring  forests  ;  and 
scarcely  ever  did  he  ride  forth,  without  hound  and  horn,  a  boar- 
spear  in  his  hand,  or  a  hawk  upon  his  fist,  and  an  attendant  train 
of  huntsmen. 

His  wife,  Dona  Maria  Palacin,  was  of  a  gentle  and  timid 
nature,  little  fitted  to  be  the  spouse  of  so  hardy  and  adventurous 
a  knight ;  and  many  a  tear  did  the  poor  lady  shed,  when  he  sal- 
lied forth  upon  his  daring  enterprises,  and  many  a  prayer  did 
she  offer  up  for  his  safety. 

As  this  doughty  cavalier  was  one  day  hunting,  he  stationed 
himself  in  a  thicket,  on  the  borders  of  a  green  glade  of  the  forest, 
and  dispersed  his  followers  to  rouse  the  game,  and  drive  it  to- 
ward his  stand.  He  had  not  been  here  long,  when  a  cavalcade 
of  Moors,  of  both  sexes,  came  prankling  over  the  forest  lawn. 
They  were  unarmed,  and  magnificently  dressed  in  robes  of  tissue 
and  embroidery,  rich  shawls  of  India,  bracelets  and  anklets  of 
gold,  and  jewels  that  sparkled  in  the  sun. 

At  the  head  of  this  gay  cavalcade  rode  a  youthful  cavalier, 
superior  to  the  rest  in  dignity  and  loftiness  of  demeanor,  and  in 
splendor  of  attire :  beside  him  was  a  damsel,  whose  veil,  blown 
aside  by  the  breeze,  displayed  a  face  of  surpassing  beauty,  and 
eyes  cast  down  in  maiden  modesty,  yet  beaming  with  tenderness 
and  joy. 


388  THE  CHIVALROUS  APPEAR. 

Don  Munio  thanked  his  stars  for  sending  him  such  a  prize, 
'and  exulted  at  the  thought  of  bearing  home  to  his  wife  the  glit- 
tering spoils  of  these  infidels.  Putting  his  hunting  horn  to  his 
lips,  he  gave  a  blast  that  rung  through  the  forest.  His  hunts- 
men came  running  from  all  quarters,  and  the  astonished  Moors 
were  surrounded  and  made  captives. 

The  beautiful  Moor  wrung  her  hands  in  despair,  and  her 
female  attendants  uttered  the  most  piercing  cries.  The  young 
Moorish  cavalier  alone  retained  self-possession.  He  inquired 
the  name  of  the  Christian  knight,  who  commanded  this  troop  of 
horsemen.  When  told  that  it  was  Don  Munio  Sancho  de  Hino- 
josa,  his  countenance  lighted  up.  Approaching  that  cavalier, 
and  kissing  his  hand,  "  Don  Munio  Sancho,"  said  he,  "  I  have 
heard  of  your  fame  as  a  true  and  valiant  knight,  terrible  in  arms, 
but  schooled  in  the  noble  virtues  of  chivalry.  Such  do  I  trust 
to  find  you.  In  me  you  behold  Abadil,  son  of  a  Moorish  al- 
cayde.  I  am  on  the  way  to  celebrate  my  nuptials  with  this  lady ; 
chance  has  thrown  us  in  your  power,  but  I  confide  in  your  mag- 
nanimity. Take  all  our  treasure  and  jewels ;  demand  what  ran- 
som you  think  proper  for  our  persons,  but  suffer  us  not  to  be 
insulted  nor  dishonored." 

When  the  good  knight  heard  this  appeal,  and  beheld  the 
beauty  of  the  youthful  pair,  his  heart  was  touched  with  tender- 
ness and  courtesy.  "  God  forbid,"  said  he,  "  that  I  should  dis- 
turb such  happy  nuptials.  My  prisoners  in  troth  shall  ye  be, 
for  fifteen  days,  and  immured  within  my  castle,  where  I  claim, 
as  conqueror,  the  right  of  celebrating  your  espousals." 

So  saying,  he  dispatched  one  of  his  fleetest  horsemen  in  ad- 
vance, to  notify  Dona  Maria  Palacin  of  the  coming  of  thia 
bridal  party ;  while  he  and  his  huntsmen  escorted  the  cavalcade. 


SPANISH   COURTESY.  389 

not  as  captors,  "but  as  a  guard  of  honor.  As  they  drew  near 
to  the  castle,  the  banners  were  hung  out,  and  the  trum- 
pets sounded  from  the  battlements ;  and  on  their  nearer  ap- 
proach, the  draw-bridge  was  lowered,  and  Dona  Maria  came 
forth  to  meet  them,  attended  by  her  ladies  and  knights,  her 
pages  and  her  minstrels.  She  took  the  young  bride,  Allifra,  in 
her  arms,  kissed  her  with  the  tenderness  of  a  sister,  and  conduct- 
ed her  into  the  castle.  In  the  mean  time,  Don  Munio  sent  forth 
missives  in  every  direction,  and  had  viands  and  dainties  of  all 
kinds  collected  from  the  country  round  ;  and  the  wedding  of  the 
Moorish  lovers  was  celebrated  with  all  possible  state  and  festi- 
vity. For  fifteen  days,  the  castle  was  given  up  to  joy  and  revelry. 
There  were  tiltings  and  jousts  at  the  ring,  and  bull-fights,  and 
banquets,  and  dances  to  the  sound  of  minstrelsy.  When  the 
fifteen  days  were  at  an  end,  he  made  the  bride  and  bridegroom 
magnificent  presents,  and  conducted  them  and  their  attendants 
safely  beyond  the  borders.  Such,  in  old  times,  were  the  courtesy 
and  generosity  of  a  Spanish  cavalier. 

Several  years  after  this  event,  the  king  of  Castile  summoned 
his  nobles  to  assist  him  in  a  campaign  against  the  Moors.  Don 
Munio  Sancho  was  among  the  first  to  answer  to  the  call,  with 
seventy  horsemen,  all  stanch  and  well-tried  warriors.  His  wife, 
Dona  Maria,  hung  about  his  neck.  "  Alas,  my  lord  !"  exclaim- 
ed she,  "  how  often  wilt  thou  tempt  thy  fate,  and  when  will  thy 
thirst  for  glory  be  appeased !" 

"  One  battle  more,"  replied  Don  Munio,  "  one  battle  more, 
for  the  honor  of  Castile,  and  I  here  make  a  vow,  that  when  this 
is  over,  I  will  lay  by  my  sword,  and  repair  with  my  cavaliers  in 
pilgrimage  to  the  sepulchre  of  our  Lord  at  Jerusalem."  The 
cavaliers  all  joined  with  him  in  the  vow,  and  Dona  Maria  feU 


390  THE  FATAL   COMBAT. 

in  some  degree  soothed  in  spirit ;  still5  she  saw  with  a  heavy 
heart  the  departure  of  her  husband,  and  watched  his  banner  with 
wistful  eyes,  until  it  disappeared  among  the  trees  of  the  forest. 

The  king  of  Castile  led  his  army  to  the  plains  of  Almanara, 
where  they  encountered  the  Moorish  host,  near  to  Ucles.  Tho 
battle  was  long  and  bloody ;  the  Christians  repeatedly  wavered 
and  were  as  often  rallied  by  the  energy  of  their  commanders. 
Don  Munio  was  covered  with  wounds,  but  refused  to  leave  the 
field.  The  Christians  at  length  gave  way,  and  the  king  was 
hardly  pressed,  and  in  danger  of  being  captured. 

Don  Munio  called  upon  his  cavaliers  to  follow  him  to  the 
rescue.  "  Now  is  the  time,"  cried  he,  "  to  prove  your  loyalty. 
Fall  to,  like  brave  men !  We  fight  for  the  true  faith,  and  if  we 
lose  our  lives  here,  we  gain  a  better  life  hereafter." 

Rushing  with  his  men  between  the  king  and  his  pursuers, 
they  checked  the  latter  in  their  career,  and  gave  time  for  their 
monarch  to  escape  ;  but  they  fell  victims  to  their  loyalty.  They 
all  fought  to  the  last  gasp.  Don  Munio  was  singled  out  by  a 
powerful  Moorish  knight,  but  having  been  wounded  in  the  right 
arm,  he  fought  to  disadvantage,  and  was  slain.  The  battle  being 
over,  the  Moor  paused  to  possess  himself  of  the  spoils  of  this  re- 
doubtable Christian  warrior.  When  he  unlaced  the  helmet, 
however,  and  beheld  the  countenance  of  Don  Munio,  he  gave  a 
great  cry,  and  smote  his  breast.  "  Woe  is  me  !"  cried  he,  "  1 
have  slain  my  benefactor  !  The  flower  of  knightly  virtue !  the 
most  magnanimous  of  cavaliers !" 

While  the  battle  had  been  raging  on  the  plain  of  Salmanara, 
Dona  Maria  Palacin  remained  in  her  castle,  a  prey  to  the  keen 
?st  anxiety.  Her  eyes  were  ever  fixed  on  the  road  that  led  from 


A  MOURNING   VICTOR.         .  391 

tlie  country  of  the  Moors,  and  often  she  asked  the  watchman  of 
the  tower,  «  What  seest  thou  ?" 

One  evening,  at  the  shadowy  hour  of  twilight,  the  warden 
sounded  his  horn.  "  I  see,"  cried  he,  "  a  numerous  train  wind- 
ing up  the  valley.  There  are  mingled  Moors  and  Christian?. 
The  banner  of  my  lord  is  in  the  advance.  Joyful  tidings  !' 
exclaimed  the  old  seneschal :  "  my  lord  returns  in  triumph,  and 
brings  captives  !!)  Then  the  castle  courts  rang  with  shouts  of 
ioy ;  and  the  standard  was  displayed,  and  the  trumpets  were 
sounded,  and  the  draw-bridge  was  lowered,  and  Dona  Maria 
went  forth  with  her  ladies,  and  her  knights,  and  her  pages,  and 
her  minstrels,  to  welcome  her  lord  from  the  wars.  But  as  the . 
train  drew  nigh,  she  beheld  a  sumptuous  bier,  covered  with  black 
velvet,  and  on  it  lay  a  warrior,  as  if  taking  his  repose :  he  lay  in 
his  armor,  with  his  helmet  on  his  head,  and  his  sword  in  his 
hand,  as  one  who  had  never  been  conquered,  and  around  the  bier 
were  the  escutcheons  of  the  house  of  Hinojosa. 

A  number  of  Moorish  cavaliers  attended  the  bier,  with  em- 
blems of  mourning,  and  with  dejected  countenances ;  and  their 
leader  cast  himself  at  the  feet  of  Dona  Maria,  and  hid  his  face 
in  his  hands.  She  beheld  in  him  the  gallant  Abadil,  whom  she 
had  once  welcomed  with  his  bride  to  her  castle ;  but  who  now 
came  with  the  body  of  her  lord,  whom  he  had  unknowingly  slain 
in  battle ! 

The  sepulchre  erected  in  the  cloisters  of  the  convent  of  San 
Domingo,  was  achieved  at  the  expense  of  the  Moor  Abadil,  as  a 
feeble  testimony  of  his  grief  for  the  death  of  the  good  knight 
Don  Munio,  and  his  reverence  for  his  memory.  The  tender  and 
faithful  Dona  Maria  soon  followed  her  lord  to  the  tomb.  On 


392  THE   PHAJSTTOH   PILGRIMAGE. 

one  of  the  stones  of  a  small  arch,  beside  his  sepulchre,  is  the 
following  simple  inscription :  "  Hie  jacet  Maria  Paladin,  uzor 
Munonis  Sancij  De  Finqjosa  :"  Here  lies  Maria  Palaciu,  wife 
of  Munio  Sancho  de  Hinojosa. 

The  legend  of  Don  Munio  Sancho  does  not  conclude  with  his 
death.  On  the  same  day  on  which  the  battle  took  place  on  the 
plain  of  Salmanara,  a  chaplain  of  the  Holy  Temple  at  Jerusalem, 
while  standing  at  the  outer  gate,  beheld  a  train  of  Christian 
cavaliers  advancing,  as  if  in  pilgrimage.  The  chaplain  was  a 
native  of  Spain,  and  as  the  pilgrims  approached,  he  knew  the 
foremost  to  be  Don  Munio  Sancho  de  Hinojosa,  with  whom  he 
had  been  well  acquainted  in  former  times.  Hastening  to  the 
patriarch,  he  told  him  of  the  honorable  rank  of  the  pilgrims  at 
the  gate.  The  patriarch,  therefore,  went  forth  with  a  grand  pro- 
cession of  priests  and  monks,  and  received  the  pilgrims  with  all 
due  honor.  There  were  seventy  cavaliers,  beside  their  leader,  all 
Btark  and  lofty  warriors.  They  carried  their  helmets  in  their 
hands,  and  their  faces  were  deadly  pale.  They  greeted  no  one, 
nor  looked  either  to  the  right  or  to  the  left,  but  entered  the  cha- 
pel, and  kneeling  before  the  sepulchre  of  our  Saviour,  performed 
their  orisons  in  silence.  When  they  had  concluded,  they  rose 
as  if  to  depart,  and  the  patriarch  and  his  attendants  advanced  to 
speak  to  them,  but  they  were  no  more  to  be  seen.  Every  one 
marvelled  what  could  be  the  meaning  of  this  prodigy.  The 
patriarch  carefully  noted  down  the  day,  and  sent  to  Castile  to 
learn  tidings  of  Don  Munio  Sancho  de  Hinojosa.  He  received 
for  reply,  that  on  the  very  day  specified,  that  worthy  knight,  with 
seventy  of  his  followers,  had  been  slain  in  battle.  These,  there- 
fore, must  have  been  the  blessed  spirits  of  those  Christian  war 
riors,  come  to  fulfil  their  vow  of  pilgrimage  to  the  Holy  Sepul 


HISTORICAL   VOUCHEE.  393 

chre  at  Jerusalem.     Such  was  Castilian  faith,  in  the  olden  time, 
which  kept  its  word,  even  beyond  the  grave. 

If  any  one  should  doubt  of  the  miraculous  apparition  of  these 
phantom  knights,  let  him  consult  the  History  of  the  Kings  of 
Castile  and  Leon,  by  the  learned  and  pious  Fray  Prudencio  de 
Sandoval,  bishop  of  Pamplona,  where  he  will  find  it  recorded  in 
the  History  of  king  Don  Alonzo  VI.,  on  the  hundred  and 
second  page.  It  is  too  precious  a  legend,  to  be  lightly  aban- 
doned to  the  doubter, 

17* 


POETS  AND  POETRY  OF  MCSLEM  ANDA1US. 

DURING  the  latter  part  of  my  sojourn  in  the  Alhambra  I  was  more 
than  once  visited  by  the  Moor  of  Tetuan,  with  whom  I  took  great 
pleasure  in  rambling  through  the  halls  and  courts,  and  getting 
him  to  explain  to  me  the  Arabic  inscriptions.  He  endeavored  to 
do  so  faithfully;  but,  though  he  succeeded  in  giving  me  the 
thought,  he  despaired  of  imparting  an  idea  of  the  grace  and 
beauty  of  the  language.  The  aroma  of  the  poetry,  said  he,  is  all 
lost  in  translation.  Enough  was  imparted,  however,  to  increase 
the  stock  of  my  delightful  associations  with  this  extraordinary 
pile.  Perhaps  there  never  was  a  monument  more  characteristic 
of  an  age  and  people  than  the  Alhambra ;  a  rugged  fortress  with- 
out, a  voluptuous  palace  within ;  war  frowning  from  its  battle- 
ments ;  poetry  breathing  throughout  the  fairy  architecture  of  its 
halls.  One  is  irresistibly  transported  in  imagination  to  those 
times  when  Moslem  Spain  was  a  region  of  light  amid  Christian, 
yet  benighted  Europe ;  externally  a  warrior  power  fighting  for 
existence ;  internally  a  realm  devoted  to  literature,  science,  and 
the  arts ;  where  philosophy  was  cultivated  with  passion,  though 
wrought  up  into  subtleties  and  refinements ;  and  where  the 
luxuries  of  sense  were  transcended  by  those  of  thought  and 
im  ination 


THE   PRINCESS   WALADA.  395 

Arab  poetry,  we  are  told,  arrived  at  its  highest  splendor 
under  the  Ommiades  of  Spain,  who  for  a  long  time  centred  the 
power  and  splendor  of  the  western  Caliphat  at  Cordova.  Most 
of  the  sovereigns  of  that  brilliant  line  were  themselves  poets. 
One  of  the  last  of  them  was  Mahomed  ben  Abderahman.  He 
led  the  life  of  a  sybarite  in  the  famous  palace  and  gardens  of 
Azahara,  surrounding  himself  with  all  that  could  excite  the 
imagination  and  delight  the  senses.  His  palace  was  the  resort 
of  poets.  His  vizier,  Ibn  Zeydun,  was  called  the  Horace  of 
Moslem  Spain,  from  his  exquisite  verses,  which  were  recited  with 
enthusiasm  even  in  the  saloons  of  the  Eastern  Caliphs.  The  vizier 
became  passionately  enamored  of  the  princess  Walada,  daughter 
of  Mahomed.  She  was  the  idol  of  her  father's  court,  a  poetess  of 
the  highest  order,  and  renowned  for  beauty  as  well  as  talent.  If 
Ibn  Zeydun  was  the  Horace  of  Moslem  Spain,  she  was  its 
Sappho.  The  princess  became  the  subject  of  the  vizier's  most 
impassioned  verses ;  especially  of  a  famous  risaleh  or  epistle 
addressed  to  her,  which  the  historian  Ash-Shakandi  declares  has 
never  been  equalled  for  tenderness  and  melancholy.  Whether 
the  poet  was  happy  in  his  love,  the  authors  I  have  consulted  do 
not  say ;  but  one  intimates  that  the  princess  was  discreet  as  she 
was.  beautiful,  and  caused  many  a  lover  to  sigh  in  vain.  In  fact, 
the  reign  of  love  and  poetry  in  the  delicious  abode  of  Zahara, 
was -soon  brought  to  a  close  by  a  popular  insurrection.  Mahomed 
with  his  family  took  refuge  in  the  fortress  of  Ucles,  near  Toledo, 
where  he  was  treacherously  poisoned  by  the  Alcayde  ;  and  thus 
perished  one  of  the  last  of  the  Ommiades. 

The  downfall  of  that  brilliant  dynasty,  which  had  concentrat- 
ed every  thing  at  Cordova,  was  favorable  to  the  general  literature 
of  Morisco  Spain. 


396  AMATORY   POETS. 

"  After  the  breaking  of  the  necklace  and  the  scattering  of  its 
pearls,"  says  Ash-Shakandi,  "  the  kings  of  small  states  divided 
among  themselves  the  patrimony  of  the  Beni  Ommiah." 

They  vied  with  each  other  in  filling  their  capitals  with  poets 
and  learned  men,  and  rewarded  them  with  boundless  prodigality. 
Such  were  the  Moorish  kings  of  Seville  of  the  illustrious  line  of 
the  Beni  Abbad,  "  with  whom,"  says  the  same  writer,  "  resided 
fruit  and  palm-trees  and  pomegranates ;  who  became  the  centre  of 
eloquence  in  prose  and  verse ;  every  day  of  whose  reign  was  a 
solemn  festivity ;  whose  history  abounds  in  generous  actions  and 
heroic  deeds,  that  will  last  through  surrounding  ages  and  live 
for  ever  in  the  memory  of  man  !" 

No  place,  however,  profited  more  in  point  of  civilization  and 
refinement  by  the  downfall  of  the  Western  Caliphat  than 
Granada.  It  succeeded  to  Cordova  in  splendor,  while  it  sur- 
passed it  in  romantic  beauty  of  situation.  The  amenity  of  its 
climate,  where  the  ardent  heats  of  a  southern  summer  were 
tempered  by  breezes  from  snow-clad  mountains ;  the  voluptuous 
repose  of  its  valleys  and  the  bosky  luxuriance  of  its  groves 
and  gardens  all  awakened  sensations  of  delight,  and  disposed  the 
mind  to  love  and  poetry.  Hence  the  great  number  of  amatory 
poets  that  flourished  in  Granada.  Hence  those  amorous  canticles 
breathing  of  love  and  war,  and  wreathing  chivalrous  grace  round 
the  stern  exercise  of  arms.  Those  ballads  which  still  form  the 
pride  and  delight  of  Spanish  literature  are  but  the  echoes  of 
amatory  and  chivalric  lays,  which  once  delighted  the  Moslem 
courts  of  Andalus ;  and  in  which  a  modern  historian  of  Granada 
pretends  to  find  the  origin  of  the  rima  Ca&teHana  and  the  type 
of  the  ''gay  science"  of  the  troubadours.* 

*  Miguel  Lafuente  Alcantara. 


THE   GARDEN   OF   MATTMAT..  397 

Poetry  was  cultivated  in  Granada  by  both  sexes.  "  Had 
Allah,"  says  Ash-Shakandi,  "  bestowed  no  other  boon  on  Granada 
than  that  of  making  it  the  birth-place  of  so  many  poetesses ;  that 
alone  would  be  sufficient  for  its  glory." 

Among  the  most  famous  of  these  was  Hafsah  ;   renowned 

ays  the  old  chronicler,  for  beauty,  talents,  nobility,  and  wealth. 

We  have  a  mere  relic  of  her  poetry  in  some  verses,  addressed 

to  her  lover,  Ahmed,  recalling  an  evening  passed  together  in  the 

garden  of  Maumal. 

"Allah  has  given  us  a  happy  night,  such  as  he  never  vouchafes 
to  the  wicked  and  the  ignoble.  "We  have  beheld  the  cypresses  of 
Maumal  gently  bowing  their  heads  before  the  mountain  breeze. — 
the  sweet  perfumed  breeze  that  smelt  of  gillyflowers :  the  dove 
murmured  her  love  among  the  trees  ;  the  sweet  basil  inclined  its 
boughs  to  the  limpid  brook." 

The  garden  of  Maumal  was  famous  among  the  Moors  for  its 
rivulets,  its  fountains,  its  flowers,  and  above  all,  its  cypresses. 
It  had  its  name  from  a  vizier  of  Abdallah,  grandson  of  Aben 
Habuz,  and  Sultan  of  Granada.  Under  the  administration  of 
this  vizier  many  of  the  noblest  public  works  were  executed.  He 
constructed  an  aqueduct  by  which  water  was  brought  from  the 
mountains  of  Alfacar  to  irrigate  the  hills  and  orchards  north  of 
the  city.  He  planted  a  public  walk  with  cypress-trees,  and 
"made  delicious  gardens  for  the  solace  of  the  melancholy  Moors." 
u  The  name  of  Maumal,"  says  Alcantara,  "  ought  to  be  preserved 
in  Granada  in  letters  of  gold."  Perhaps  it  is  as  well  preserved 
by  being  associated  with  the  garden  he  planted ;  and  by  being 
mentioned  in  the  verses  of  Hafsah.  How  often  does  a  casual 
word  from  a  poet  confer  immortality  ! 

Perhaps  the  reader  may  be  curious  to  learn  something  of  the 
17* 


398  LOVE  AND   POETRY. 

story  of  Hafsali  and  her  lover,  thus  connected  with  one  of  the 
beautiful  localities  of  Granada.  The  following  are  all  the 
particulars  I  have  been  able  to  rescue  out  of  the  darkness  and 
oblivion  which  have  settled  upon  the  brightest  names  and 
geniuses  of  Moslem  Spain. 

Ahmed  and  Hafsah  flourished  in  the  sixth  century  of  the 
Hegira ;  the  twelfth  of  the  Christian  Era.  Ahmed  was  the  son 
of  the  Alcayde  of  Alcala  la  Real.  His  father  designed  him  for 
public  and  military  life  and  would  have  made  him  his  lieutenant; 
but  the  youth  was  of  a  poetical  temperament,  and  preferred  a 
life  of  lettered  ease  in  the  delightful  abodes  of  Granada.  Here 
he  surrounded  himself  by  objects  of  taste  in  the  arts,  and  by  the 
works  of  the  learned;  he  divided  his  time  between  study  and 
social  enjoyment.  He  was  fond  of  the  sports  of  the  field,  and 
kept  horses,  hawks,  and  hounds.  He  devoted  himself  to  litera- 
ture, became  renowned  for  erudition,  and  his  compositions  in 
prose  and  verse  were  extolled  for  their  beauty,  and  in  the  mouths 
of  every  one. 

Of  a  tender,  susceptible  heart,  and  extremely  sensible  to 
female  charms,  he  became  the  devoted  lover  of  Hafsah.  The 
passion  was  mutual,  and  for  once  the  course  of  true  love  appeared 
to  run  smooth.  The  lovers  were  both  young,  equal  in  merit 
fame,  rank,  and  fortune,  enamored  of  each  other'*  genius  as  well 
as  person,  and  inhabiting  a  region  formed  to  be  a  realm  of  love 
and  poetry.  A  poetical  intercourse  was  carried  on  between  their 
that  formed  the  delight  of  Granada,  They  were  continually  in- 
terchanging verses  and  epistles ;  "  the  poetry  of  which,"  says  the 
Arabian  writer,  Al  Makkari,  "  was  like  the  language  of  doves." 

In  the  height  of  their  happiness  a  change  took  place  in  the 
government  of  Granada.  It  was  the  time  when  the  Almohades, 


SIDI  ABU   SAID.  399 

a  Berber  tribe  of  Mount  Atlas,  had  acquired  the  control  of 
Moslem  Spain,  and  removed  the  seat  of  government  from  Cordova 
to  Morocco.  The  Sultan  Abdelmuman  governed  Spain  through 
his  Walis  and  Alcaldes ;  and  his  son,  Sidi  Abu  Said,  was  made 
Wali  of  Granada.  He  governed  in  his  father's  name  with  royal 
state  and  splendor,  and  with  despotic  sway.  Being  a  stranger  in 
the  country,  and  a  Moor  by  birth,  he  sought  to  strengthen  him- 
self by  drawing  round  him  popular  persons  of  the  Arab  race ; 
and  to  this  effect  made  Ahmed,  who  was  then  in  the  zenith  of  his 
fame  and  popularity,  his  vizier.  Ahmed  would  have  declined  the 
post,  but  the  Wali  was  peremptory.  Its  duties  were  irksome  to 
him,  and  he  spurned  at  its  restraint.  On  a  hawking  party,  with 
some  of  his  gay  companions,  he  gave  way  to  his  poetic  vein, 
exulting  in  his  breaking  away  from  the  thraldom  of  a  despotic 
master  like  a  hawk  from  the  jesses  of  the  falconer,  to  follow  the 
soaring  impulses  of  his  soul. 

His  words  were  repeated  to  Sidi  Abu  Said.  "  Ahmed,"  said 
the  informant,  "  spurns  at  restraint  and  scoffs  at  thy  authority." 
The  poet  was  instantly  dismissed  from  office.  The  loss  of  an 
irksome  post  was  no  grievance  to  one  of  his  joyous  temperament; 
but  he  soon  discovered  the  real  cause  of  his  removal.  The  Wali 
was  his  rival.  He  had  seen  and  become  enamored  of  Hafsah. 
What  was  worse,  Hafsah  was  dazzled  with  the  conquest  she  had 
made. 

For  a  time  Ahmed  treated  the  matter  with  ridicule ;  and 
appealed  to  the  prejudice  existing  between  the  Arab  and  Moorish" 
races.  Sidi  Abu  Said  was  of  a  dark  olive  complexion.  "  How 
canst  thou  endure  that  black  man  ?"  said  he,  scornfully.  "  By 
Allah,  for  twenty  dinars  I  can  buy  thee  a  better  than  he  in  tho 
slave  market." 


400  A   POET   IN   PRISON. 

The  scoff  reached  the  ears  of  Sidi  Abu  Said  and  rankled  in 
his  heart. 

At  other  times,  Ahmed  gave  way  to  grief  and  tenderness, 
recalling  past  scenes  of  happiness,  reproaching.  Hafsah  with  her 
inconstancy,  and  warning  her  in  despairing  accents  that  she  would 
be  the  cause  of  his  death.  His  words  were  unheeded.  The  idea 
of  having  the  son  of  the  Sultan  for  a  lover  had  captivated  the 
imagination  of  the  poetess. 

Maddened  by  jealousy  and  despair,  Ahmed  joined  in  a  con- 
spiracy against  the  ruling  dynasty.  It  was  discovered,  and  the 
conspirators  fled  from  Granada.  Some  escaped  to  a  castle  on  the 
mountains,  Ahmed  took  refuge  in  Malaga,  where  he  concealed 
himself,  intending  to  embark  for  Valencia.  He  was  discovered, 
loaded  with  chains  and  thrown  into  a  dungeon,  to  abide  the 
decision  of  Sidi  Abu  Said. 

He  was  visited  in  prison  by  a  nephew,  who  has  left  on  record 
an  account  of  the  interview.  The  youth  was  moved  to  tears  at 
seeing  his  illustrious  relative,  late  so  prosperous  and  honored, 
fettered  like  a  malefactor. 

<:  Why  dost  thou  weep  ?"  said  Ahmed.  "Are  these  tears  shed 
for  me?  For  me,  who  have  enjoyed  all  that  the  world  could  give  ? 
Weep  not  for  me.  I  have  had  my  share  of  happiness ;  banqueted 
on  the  daintiest  fare ;  quaffed  out  of  crystal  cups ;  slept  on  beds  of 
down ;  been  arrayed  in  the  richest  silks  and  brocades ;  ridden  the 
fleetest  steeds ;  enjoyed  the  loves  of  the  fairest  maidens.  We?vp 
"not  for  me  My  present  reverse  is  but  the  inevitable  course  of 
fate.  I  have  committed  acts  which  render  pardon  hopeless.  I 
must  await  my  punishment." 

His  presentiment  was  correct.  The  vengeance  of  Sidi  Abu 
Said  was  only  to  be  satisfied  by  the  blood  of  his  rival,  and  the 


TAKDY   KEMOKSE.  401 

unfortunate  Ahmed  was  beheaded  at  Malaga,  ;n  the  month 
Jumadi,  in  the  year  559  of  the  Hegira  (April,  1164).  When 
the  news  was  brought  to  the  fickle-hearted  Hafsah,  she  was 
struck  with  sorrow  and  remorse,  and  put  on  mourning ;  recalling 
his  warning  words,  and  reproaching  herself  with  being  the  caiiec 
of  his  death. 

Of  the  after  fortunes  of  Hafsah  I  have  no  further  trace  than 
that  she  died  in  Morocco,  in  1184,  outliving  both  her  lovers,  for 
Sidi  Abu  Said  died  in  Morocco  of  the  plague  in  1175.  A 
memorial  of  his  residence  in  Granada  remained  in  a  palace  which 
he  built  on  the  banks  of  the  Xenil.  The  garden  of  Maumal, 
the  scene  of  the  early  lives  of  Ahmed  and  Hafsah,  is  no  longer  in 
existence.  Its  site  may  be  found  by  the  antiquary  in  poetical 
research. 


The  authorities  for  the  foregoing,  Alcantara,  Hist  Granada.  Al  Makkari, 
Hist.  Mohamed.  Dynasties  in  Spain,  B.  ii.,  c.  3.  Notes  and  illustrations  of 
the  same,  by  Gayangos,  v.  1,  P.  440.  Ibnu  Al  Kahttib,  Biograph.  Dio,  cited 
by  Gayangos.  CondeHist  Dom.  Arab. 


AS  EXPEDITION  IN  QUEST  OF  A  DIPLOMA. 

ONE  of  the  most  important  occurrences  in  the  domestic  life  of 
the  Alhambra,  was  the  departure  of  Manuel,  the  nephew  of  Dona 
Antonia,  for  Malaga,  to  stand  examination  as  a  physician.  I  have 
already  informed  the  reader  that,  on  his  success  in  obtaining  a 
degree  depended  in  a  great  measure  the  union  and  future  for 
tunes  of  himself  and  his  cousin  Dolores  ;  at  least  so  I  was  pri- 
vately informed  by  Mateo  Ximenes,  and  various  circumstances 
concurred  to  corroborate  his  information.  Their  courtship,  how- 
ever, was  carried  on  very  quietly  and  discreetly,  and  I  scarce 
think  I  should  have  discovered  it,  if  I  had  not  been  put  on  the 
alert  by  the  all-observant  Mateo. 

In  the  present  instance,  Dolores  was  less  on  the  reserve,  and 
had  busied  herself  for  several  days  in  fitting  out  honest  Manuel 
for  his  expedition.  '  All  his  clothes  had  been  arranged  and 
packed  in  the  neatest  order,  and  above  all  she  had  worked  a  smart 
Andalusian  travelling  jacket  for  him  with  her  own  hands.  On 
the  morning  appointed  for  his  departure,  a  stout  mule  on  which 
he  was  to  perform  the  journey  was  paraded  at  the  portal  of  the 
Alhambra,  and  Tio  Polo  (Uncle  Polo),  an  old  invalid  soldier,  at- 
landed  to  caparison  him.  This  veteran  was  one  of  the  curiosities 
of  the  place.  He  had  a  leathern  lantern  visage,  tanned  in  the 


FITTING   OUT   FOR   A   JOUKNEY.  4:03 

tropics,  a  long  Roman  nose,  and  a  black  beetle  eye.  I  had  fre- 
quently observed  him  reading,  apparently  with  intense  interest,  an 
old  parchment-bound  volume ;  sometimes  he  would  be  surrounded 
by  a  group  of  his  brother  invalids ;  some  seated  on  the  parapets, 
some  lying  on  the  grass,  listening  with  fixed  attention,  while  ho 
read  slowly  and  deliberately  out  of  his  favorite  work,  sometimes 
pausing  to  explain  or  expound  for  the  benefit  of  his  less  enlight- 
ened auditors 

I  took  occasion  one  day  to  inform  myself  of  this  ancient  book, 
which  appeared  to  be  his  vade  mecum,  and  found  it  to  be  an  odd 
volume  of  the  works  of  Padre  Benito  G-eronymo  Feyjoo;  and  that 
one  which  treats  about  the  Magic  of  Spain,  the  mysterious  caves 
of  Salamanca  and  Toledo,  the  Purgatory  of  San  Patricio  (St. 
Patrick),  and  other  mystic  subjects  of  the  kind.  From  that  time 
I  kept  my  eye  upon  the  veteran. 

On  the  present  occasion,  I  amused  myself  with  watching  him 
fit  out  the  steed  of  Manuel  with  all  the  forecast  of  an  old  cam- 
paigner. First,  he  took  a  considerable  time  in  adjusting  to  the 
back  of  the  mule  a  cumbrous  saddle  of  antique  fashion,  high  in 
front  and  behind,  with  Moorish  stirrups  like  shovels ;  the  whole 
looking  like  a  relic  of  the  old  armory  of  the  Alhambra ;  then  a 
fleecy  sheep-skin  was  accommodated  to  the  deep  seat  of  the  sad- 
dle ;  then  a  maleta,  neatly  packed  by  the  hand  of  Dolores,  was 
buckled  behind ;  then  a  manta  was  thrown  over  it  to  serve  either 
as  cloak  or  couch ;  then  the  all-important  alforjas,  carefully 
stocked  with  provant,  were  hung  in  front,  together  with  the  bota, 
or  leathern  bottle  for  either  wine  or  water,  and  lastly  the  trabu« 
cho,  which  the  old  soldier  slung  behind,  giving  it  his  benediction. 
It  was  like  the  fitting  out  in  old  times  of  a  Moorish  cavalier  fo 
a  foray  or  a  joust  in  the  Vivarrarnbla.  A  number  of  the  lazza- 


404  FAMILY    TROUBLES. 

roni  of  the  fortress  had  gathered  round,  with  some  of  the  invalids, 
all  looking  on,  all  offering  their  aid,  and  all  giving  advice,  to  tho 
great  annoyance  of  Tio  Polo. 

When  all  was  ready  Manuel  took  leave  of  the  household ; 
Tio  Polo  held  his  stirrup  while  he  mounted  ;  adjusted  the  girths 
and  saddle,  and  cheered  him  off  in  military  style  ;  then  turning 
to  Dolores,  who  stood  admiring  her  cavalier  as  he  trotted  off  ; 
"  Ah  Dolorocita,"  exclaimed  he,  with  a  nod  and  a  wink,  "  es  muy 
guapo  Manuelito  in su  Xaqueta"  (Ah  Dolores,  Manuel  is  mighty 
fine  in  his  jacket.)  The  little  damsel  blushed  and  laughed,  and 
ran  into  the  house. 

Days  elapsed  without  tidings  from  Manuel,  though  he  had 
promised  to  write.  The  heart  of  Dolores  began  to  misgive  her. 
Had  any  thing  happened  to  him  on  the  road  ?  Had  he  failed  in 
his  examination  ?  A  circumstance  occurred  in  her  little  house- 
hold to  add  to  her  uneasiness  and  fill  her  mind  with  fore- 
boding. It  was  almost  equal  to  the  escapado  of  her  pigeon. 
Her  tortoise-shell  cat  eloped  at  night  and  clambered  to  the  tiled 
roof  of  the  Alhambra.  In  the  dead  of  the  night  there  was  a 
fearful  caterwauling ;  some  grimalkin  was  uncivil  to  her ;  then 
there  was  a  scramble ;  then  a  clapper-clawing ;  then  both  par- 
ties rolled  off  the  roof  and  tumbled  from  a  great  height  among 
the  trees  on  the  hill  side.  Nothing  more  was  seen  or  heard  of 
the  fugitive,  and  poor  Dolores  considered  it  but  the  prelude  to 
greater  calamities. 

At  the  end  of  ten  days,  however,  Manuel  returned  in  triumph, 
duly  authorized  to  kill  or  cure  ;  and  all  Dolores'  cares  were  over. 
There  was  a  general  gathering  in  the  evening,  of  the  humble 
friends  and  hangers-on  of  Dame  Antonio  to  congratulate  her, 
and  to  pay  their  respects  to  el  Senw  Medico^  who,  peradventure. 


TIO   POLO.  405 

at  some  future  day,  might  have  all  their  lives  in  his  hands.  Ono 
of  the  most  important  of  these  guests,  was  old  Tio  Polo  ;  and  I 
gladly  seized  the  occasion  to  prosecute  my  acquaintance  with 
him.  "  Oh  Senor,"  cried  Dolores,  "  you  who  are  so  eager  to 
learn  all  the  old  histories  of  the  Alhambra.  Tio  Polo  knows 
more  about  them  than  any  one  else  about  the  place.  More  than 
Mateo  Ximenes  and  his  whole  family  put  together.  Vaya — 
Vaya — Tio  Polo,  tell  the  Senor  all  those  stories  you  told  us  one 
evening,  about  enchanted  Moors,  and  the  haunted  bridge  over 
the  Darro,  and  the  old  stone  pomegranates,  that  have  been  there 
since  the  days  of  King  Chico. 

It  was  some  time  before  the  old  invalid  could  be  brought 
into  a  narrative  vein.  He  shook  his  head — they  were  all  idle 
tales ;  not  worthy  of  being  told  to  a  cavallero  like  myself.  It 
was  only  by  telling  some  stories  of  the  kind  myself  I  at  last  got 
him  to  open  Jbis  budget.  It  was  a  whimsical  farrago,  partly 
made  up  of  what  he  had  heard  in  the  Alhambra,  partly  of  what 
he  had  read  in  Padre  Feyjoo.  I  will  endeavor  to  give  the  reader 
the  substance  of  it,  but  I  will  not  promise  to  give  it  in  the  very 
words  of  Tio  Polo. 


THE  LEGEND  OF  THE  ENCHANTED  SOLDIER. 

JOvERY  body  has  heard  of  the  Cave  of  St.  Cyprian  at  Salamanca, 
where  in  old  times  judicial  astronomy,  necromancy,  chiromancy, 
and  other  dark  and  damnable  arts  were  secretly  taught  by  an 
ancient  sacristan  ;  or,  as  some  will  have  it,  by  the  devil  himself, 
in  that  disguise.  The  cave  has  long  been  shut  up  and  the  very 
site  of  it  forgotten  ;  though,  according  to  tradition,  the  entrance 
was  somewhere  about  where  the  stone  cross  stands  in  the  small 
square  of  the  seminary  of  Carvajal ;  and  this  tradition  appears 
in  some  degree  corroborated  by  the  circumstances  of  the  follow- 
ing story. 

There  was  at  one  time  a  student  of  Salamanca,  Don  Vicente 
by  name,  of  that  merry  but  mendicant  class,  who  set  out  on  the 
road  to  learning  without  a  penny  in  pouch  for  the  journey,  and 
who,  during  college  vacations,  beg  from  town  to  town  and  village 
to  village  to  raise  funds  to  enable  them  to  pursue  their  studies 
through  the  ensuing  term.  He  was  now  about  to  set  forth  on 
his  wanderings ;  and  being  somewhat  musical,  slung  on  his  back 
a  guitar  with  which  to  amuse  the  villagers,  and  pay  for  a  meal  or 
a  night's  lodgings. 

As  he  passed  by  the  stone  cross  in  the  seminary  square, he  pulled 
off  his  hat  and  made  a  short  invocation  to  St.  Cyprian,  for  good 


A  MENDICANT   STUDENT.  407" 

luck ;  when  casting  his  eyes  upon  the  earth,  he  perceived  some- 
thing glitter  at  the  foot  of  the  cross.  On  picking  it  up,  it  proved 
to  be  a  seal  ring  of  mixed  metal,  in  which  gold  and  silver  ap 
peared  to  be  blended.  The  seal  bore  as  a  device  two  triangles 
crossing  each  other,  so  as  to  form  a  star.  This  device  is  said  to 
1)3  a  cabalistic  sign,  invented  by  king  Solomon  the  wise,  and  of 
mighty  power  in  all  cases  of  enchantment ;  but  the  honest  stu- 
dent, being  neither  sage  nor  conjurer,  knew  nothing  of  the  matter. 
He  took  the  ring  as  a  present  from  St.  Cyprian  in  reward  of  hia 
prayer ;  slipped  it  on  his  finger,  made  a  bow  to  the  cross,  and 
strumming  his  guitar,  set  off  merrily  on  his  wandering. 

The  life  of  a  mendicant  student  in  Spain  is  not  the  most 
miserable  in  the  world  ;  especially  if  he  has  any  talent  at 
making  himself  agreeable.  He  rambles  at  large  from  village 
to  village,  and  city  to  city,  wherever  curiosity  or  caprice 
may  conduct  him.  The  country  curates,  who,  for  the  most  part, 
have  been  mendicant  students  in  their  time,  give  him  shelter 
for  the  night,  and  a  comfortable  meal,  and  often  enrich  him  with 
several  quartos,  or  half-pence  in  the  morning.  As  he  presents 
himself  from  door  to  door  in  the  streets  of  the  cities,  he  meets 
with  no  harsh  rebuff,  no  chilling  contempt,  for  there  is  no  dis- 
grace attending  his  mendicity,  many  of  the  most  learned  men  in 
Spain  having  commenced  their  career  in  this  manner;  but  if, 
like  the  student  in  question,  he  is  a  good  looking  vaflet  and  a 
merry  companion ;  and,  above  all,  if  he  can  play  the  guitar,  he  is 
sure  of  a  hearty  welcome  among  the  peasants,  and  smiles  and 
favors  from  their  wives  and  daughters. 

In  this  way,  then,  did  our  ragged  and  musical  son  of  learn- 
ing make  his  way  over  half  the  kingdom ;  with  the  fixed  de- 
termination to  visit  the  famous  city  of  Granada  before  his 


•408  MUSICAL   VAGABONDIZING. 

return.  Sometimes  he  was  gathered  for  the  night  into  the  fold 
of  some  village  pastor ;  sometimes  he  was  sheltered  under  the 
humble  but  hospitable  roof  of  the  peasant.  Seated  at  the  cot- 
tage door  with  his  guitar,  he  delighted  the  simple  folk  with  his 
ditties;  or  striking  up  A  fandango  or  bolero,  set  the  brown 
country  lads  and  lasses  dancing  in  the  mellow  twilight.  In  the 
morning  he  departed  with  kind  words  from  host  and  hostess, 
and  kind  looks  and.  peradventure,  a  squeeze  of  the  hand  from 
the  daughter. 

At  length  he  arrived  at  the  great  object  of  his  musical  vaga- 
bondizing, the  far-famed  city  of  Granada,  and  hailed  with  wonder 
and  delight  its  Moorish  towers,  its  lovely  vega  and  its  snowy 
mountains  glistering  through  a  summer  atmosphere.  It  is  need- 
less to  say  with  what  eager  curiosity  he  entered  its  gates  and 
wandered  through  its  streets,  and  gazed  upon  its  oriental  monu- 
ments. Every  female  face  peering  through  a  window  or  beaming 
from  a  balcony  was  to  him  a  Zorayda  or  a  Zelinda,  nor  could  he 
meet  a  stately  dame  on  the  Alameda  but  he  was  ready  to  fancy 
her  a  Moorish  princess,  and  to  spread  his  student's  robe  beneath 
her  feet. 

His  musical  talent,  his  happy  humor,  his  youth  and  his  good 
looks,  won  him  a  universal  welcome  in  spite  of  his  ragged  robes, 
and  for  several  days  he  led  a  gay  life  in  the  old  Moorish  capital 
and  its  eriVirons.  One  of  his  occasional  haunts  was  the  fountain 
of  Avellanos,  in  the  valley  of  the  Darro.  It  is  one  of  the  popular 
resorts  of  Granada,  and  has  been  so  since  the  days  of  the  Moors ; 
and  here  the  student  had  an  opportunity  of  pursuing  his  studies 
of  female  beauty;  a  branch  of  study  to  which  he  was  a  little 
prone. 

Here  he  would  take  his  seat  with  his  guitar,  improvise  love- 


THE   PET   LAMB.  409 

ditties  to  admiring  groups  of  majos  and  majas,  or  prompt  with 
hi«  music  the  ever  ready  dance.  He  was  thus  engaged  one 
evening,  when  he  beheld  a  padre  of  the  church  advancing  at 
whose  approach  every  one  touched  the  hat.  He  was  evidently  a 
man  of  consequence ;  he  certainly  was  a  mirror  of  good  if  not  of 
holy  living ;  robust  and  rosy-faced,  and  breathing  at  every  pore, 
with  the  warmth  of  the  weather  and  the  exercise  of  the  walk. 
As  he  passed  along  he  would  every  now  and  then  draw  a  mara- 
vedi  out  of  his  pocket  and  bestow  it  on  a  beggar,  with  an  air  of 
signal  beneficence.  "  Ah,  the  blessed  father !"  would  be  the  cry ; 
"  long  life  to  him,  and  may  he  soon  be  a  bishop  !" 

To  aid  his  steps  in  ascending  the  hill  he  leaned  gently  now 
and  then  on  the  arm  of  a  handmaid,  evidently  the  pet-lamb  of 
this  kindest  of  pastors.  Ah,  such  a  damsel !  Andalus  from 
head  to  foot :  from  the  rose  in  her  hair,  to  the  fairy  shoe  and 
lacework  stocking ;  Andalus  in  every  movement ;  in  every  un- 
dulation of  the  body : — ripe,  melting  Andalus  ! — But  then  so 
modest ! — so  shy ! — ever,  with  downcast  eyes,  listening  to  the 
words  of  the  padre  ;  or,  if  by  chance  she  let  flash  a  side  glance,  it 
was  suddenly  checked  and  her  eyes  once  more  cast  to  the  ground. 

The  good  padre  looked  benignantly  on  the  company  about  the 
fountain,  and  took  his  seat  with  some  emphasis  on  a  stone  bench, 
while  the  handmaid  hastened  to  bring  him  a  glass  of  sparkling 
water.  He  sipped  it  deliberately  and  with  a  relish,  tempering  it 
with  one  of  those  spongy  pieces  of  frosted  eggs  and  sugar  so  dear 
to  Spanish  epicures,  and  on  returning  the  glass  to  the  hand  o* 
the  damsel  pinched  her  cheek  with  infinite  loving-kindness. 

"  Ah.  the  good  pastor !"  whispered  the  student  to  himself ; 
u  what  a  happiness  would  it  be  to  be  gathered  into  his  fold  with 
such  a  pet-lamb  for  a  companion  !" 
18 


410  A   MODEL   PASTOE. 

But  no  such  good  fare  was  likely  to  befall  him.  In  vain 
he  essayed  those  powers  of  pleasing  which  he  had  found  so 
irresistible  with  country  curates  and  country  lasses.  Never 
had  he  touched  his  guitar  with  such  skill ;  never  had  he  poured 
forth  more  soul-moving  ditties,  but  he  had  no  longer  a  country 
curate  or  country  lass  to  deal  with.  The  worthy  priest  evidently 
did  not  relish  music,  and  the  modest  damsel  never  raised  her 
eyes  from  the  ground.  They  remained  but  a  short  time  at  the 
fountain ;  the  good  padre  hastened  their  return  to  Granada. 
The  damsel  gave  the  student  one  shy  glance  in  retiring ;  but  it 
plucked  the  heart  out  of  his  bosom ! 

He  inquired  about  them  after  they  had  gone.  Padre  Tomas 
was  one  of  the  saints  of  Granada,  a  model  of  regularity  • 
punctual  in  his  hour  of  rising ;  his  hour  of  taking  a  paseo  for  an 
appetite ;  his  hours  of  eating ;  his  hour  of  taking  his  siesta ;  his 
hour  of  playing  his  game  of  tresillo,  of  an  evening,  with  some  of 
the  dames  of  the  Cathedral  circle ;  his  hour  of  supping,  and  his 
hour  of  retiring  to  rest,  to  gather  fresh  strength  for  another 
day's  round  of  similar  duties.  He  had  an  easy  sleek  mule  for  his 
riding  ;  a  matronly  housekeeper  skilled  in  preparing  tit-bits  for 
his  table ;  and  the  pet  lamb,  to  smooth  his  pillow  at  night  and 
bring  him  his  chocolate  in  the  morning. 

Adieu  now  to  the  gay,  thoughtless  life  of  the  student ;  the 
Bide  glance  of  a  bright  eye  had  been  the  undoing  of  him.  Day 
and  night  he  could  not  get  the  image  of  this  most  modest  damsel 
out  of  his  mind.  He  sought  the  mansion  of  the  padre.  Alas  !  it 
was  above  the  class  of  houses  accessible  to  a  strolling  student  like 
himself.  The  worthy  padre  had  no  sympathy  with  him  ;  he  had 
never  been  Estudiante  sopista,  obliged  to  sing  for  his  supper. 
He  blockaded  the  house  by  day,  catching  a  glance  of  the  damsel 


THE  BRIDGE  OF  THE  POMEGRANATES.        411 

now  and  then  as  she  appeared  at  a  casement :  but  the^e  glanoes 
only  fed  his  flame  without  encouraging  his  hope.  He  serenaded 
her  balcony  at  night,  and  at  one  time  was  flattered  by  the  appear- 
ance of  something  white  at  a  window.  Alas,  it  was  only  the 
nightcap  of  the  padre. 

Never  was  lover  more  devoted ;  never  damsel  more  shy : 
the  poor  student  was  reduced  to  despair.  At  length  arrived  the 
eve  of  St.  John,  when  the  lower  classes  of  Granada  swarm  into 
the  country,  dance  away  the  afternoon,  and  pass  midsummer's 
night  on  the  banks  of  the  Darro  and  the  Xenil.  Happy  are  they 
who  on  this  eventful  night  can  wash  their  faces  in  those  waters 
just  as  the  Cathedral  bell  tells  midnight ;  for  at  that  precise 
moment  they  have  a  beautifying  power.  The  student,  having 
nothing  to  do,  suffered  himself  to  be  carried  away  by  the  holiday- 
seeking  throng  until  he  found  himself  in  the  narrow  valley  of  the 
Darro,  below  the  lofty  hill  and  ruddy  towers  of  the  Alhambra. 
The  dry  bed  of  the  river ;  the  rocks  which  border  it ;  the  terraced 
gardens  which  overhang  it  were  alive  with  variegated  groups, 
dancing  under  the  vines  and  fig-trees  to  the  sound  of  the  guitar 
and  castanets. 

The  student  remained  for  some  time  in  doleful  dumps,  leaning 
against  one  of  the  huge  misshapen  stone  pomegranates  which 
adorn  the  ends  of  the  .little  bridge  over  the  Darro.  He  cast  a 
wistful  glance  upon  the  merry  scene,  where  every  cavalier  had 
his  dame ;  or,  to  speak  more  appropriately,  every  Jack  his  Jill ; 
sighed  at  his  own  solitary  state,  a  victim  to  the  black  eye  of  the 
most  unapproachable  of  damsels,  and  repined  at  his  ragged  garb, 
which  seemed  to  shut  the  gate  of  hope  against  him. 

By  degrees  his  attention  was  attracted  to  a  neighbor  equally 
solitary  with  himself.  This  was  a  tall  soldier,  of  a  stern  aspect 


412  THE  ANTIQUE  SENTRY. 

and  grizzled  beard,  who  seemed  posted  as  a  sentry  at  the 
opposite  pomegranate.  Bis  face  was  bronzed  by  time ;  he  was 
arrayed  in  ancient  Spanish  armor,  with  buckler  and  lance,  and 
stood  immovable  as  a  statue.  What  surprised  the  student  was. 
that  though  thus  strangely  equipped,  he  was  totally  unnoticed  by 
the  passing  throng,  albeit  that  many  almost  brushed  against  him. 

"  This  is  a  city  of  old-time  peculiarities,"  thought  the  student, 
u  and  doubtless  this  is  one  of  them  with  which  the  inhabitants 
are  too  familiar  to  be  surprised."  His  own  curiosity,  however, 
was  awakened,  and  being  of  a  social  disposition,  he  accosted  the 
soldier. 

"  A  rare  old  suit  of  armor  that  which  you  wear,  comrade. 
May  I  ask  what  corps  you  belong  to  ?" 

The  soldier  gasped  out  a  reply  from  a  pair  of  jaws  which 
seemed  to  have  rusted  on  their  hinges. 

"  The  royal  guard  of  Ferdinand  and  Isabella." 

"  Santa  Maria !  Why,  it  is  three  centuries  since  that  corps 
was  in  service." 

"  And  for  three  centuries  have  I  been  mounting  guard.  Now 
I  trust  my  tour  of  duty  draws  to  a  close.  Dost  thou  desire 
fortune?" 

The  student  held  up  his  tattered  cloak  in  reply. 

"  I  understand  thee.  If  thou  hast  faith  and  courage,  follow 
me,  and  thy  fortune  is  made." 

"  Softly,  comrade,  to  follow  thee  would  require  small  courage 
in  one  who  has  nothing  to  lose  but  life  and  an  old  guitar,  neither 
of  much  value ;  but  my  faith  is  of  a  different  matter,  and  not  to 
be  put  in  temptation.  If  it  be  any  criminal  act  by  which  I  am 
to  mend  my  fortune,  think  not  my  ragged  cloak  will  make  me 
undertake  it." 


THE  TOWER  OF  THE  AQUEDUCT.  413 

The  soldier  turned  on  him  a  look  of  high  displeasure.  "  My 
sword,"  said  he,  "  has  never  been  drawn  but  in  the  cause  of  the 
faith  and  the  throne.  I  am  a  Cristiano  viejo^  trust  in  me  and  fear 
no  evil." 

The  student  followed  him  wondering.  He  observed  that  no 
one  heeded  their  conversation,  and  that  the  soldier  made  his  way 
through  the  various  groups  of  idlers  unnoticed,  as  if  invisible. 

Crossing  the  bridge,  the  soldier  led  the  way  by  a  narrow  and 
fcteep  path  past  a  Moorish  mill  and  aqueduct,  and  up  the  ravine 
which  separates  the  domains  of  the  Generalife  from  those  of  the 
Alhambra.  The  last  ray  of  the  sun  shone  upon  the  red  battle- 
ments of  the  latter,  which  beetled  far  above  ;  and  the  convent 
bells  were  proclaiming  the  festival  of  the  ensuing  day.  The  ra- 
vine was  overshadowed  by  fig-trees,  vines,  and  myrtles,  and  the 
outer  towers  and  walls  of  the  fortress.  It  was  dark  and  lonely, 
and  the  twilight-loving  bats  began  to  flit  about.  At  length  the 
soldier  halted  at  a  remote  and  ruined  tower,  apparently  intended 
to  guard  a  Moorish  aqueduct.  He  struck  the  foundation  with 
the  but-end  of  his  spear.  A  rumbling  sound  was  heard,  and  the 
solid  stones  yawned  apart,  leaving  an  opening  as  wide  as  a  door. 

"  Enter  in  the  name  of  the  Holy  Trinity,"  said  the  soldier, 
"  and  fear  nothing."  The  student's  heart  quaked,  but  he  made 
the  sign  of  the  cross,  muttered  fris  Ave  Maria,  and  followed  his 
mysterious  guide  into  a  deep  vault  cut  out  of  the  solid  rock  un- 
der the  tower,  and  covered  with  Arabic  inscriptions.  The  soldiei 
pointed  to  a  stone  seat  hewn  along  one  side  of  the  vault.  "  Be- 
hold," said  he,  "  my  couch  for  three  hundred  years."  The  be- 
wildered student  tried  to  force  a  joke.  "  By  the  blessed  St.  An- 
thony," said  he,  "  but  you  must  have  slept  soundly,  considering 
the  hardness  of  your  couch." 


414:  SPELL-BOTJND. 

"  On  the  contrary,  sleep  has  been  a  stranger  to  these  eyes ; 
incessant  watchfulness  has  been  my  doom.  Listen  to  my  lot. 
I  was  one  of  the  royal  guards  of  Ferdinand  and  Isabella ;  but 
was  taken  prisoner  by  the  Moors  in  one  of  their  sorties,  and  con- 
fined a  captive  in  this  tower.  When  preparations  were  made 
to  surrender  the  fortress  to  the  Christian  sovereigns,  I  was  pre- 
vailed upon  by  an  Alfaqui,  a  Moorish  priest,  to  aid  him  in  secret- 
ing some  of  the  treasures  of  Boabdil  in  this  vault.  I  was  justly 
punished  for  my  fault.  The  Alfaqui  was  an  African  necroman- 
cer, and  by  his  infernal  arts  cast  a  spell  upon  me-r-to  guard  his 
treasures.  Something  must  have  happened  to  him,  for  he  never 
returned,  and  here  have  I  remained  ever  since,  buried  alive. 
Years  and  years  have  rolled  away ;  earthquakes  have  shaken  this 
hill ;  I  have  heard  stone  by  stone  of  the  tower  above  tumbling  to 
the  ground,  in  the  natural  operation  of  time ;  but  the  spell-bound 
walls  of  this  vault  set  both  time  and  earthquakes  at  defiance. 

"  Once  every  hundred  years,  on  the  vestival  of  St.  John,  the  en- 
chantment ceases  to  have  thorough  sway  ;  I  am  permitted  to  go 
forth  and  post  myself  upon  the  bridge  of  the  Darro,  where  you 
met  me,  waiting  until  some  one  shall  arrive  who  may  have  power 
to  break  this  magic  spell.  I  have  hitherto  mounted  guard  there 
in  vain.  I  walk  as  in  a  cloud,  concealed  from  mortal  sight.  You 
are  the  first  to  accost  me  for  now  three  hundred  years.  I  behold 
the  reason.  I  see  on  your  finger  the  seal-ring  of  Solomon  the 
wise,  which  is  proof  against  all  enchantment.  With  you  it  re- 
mains to  deliver  me  from  this  awful  dungeon,  or  to  leave  me  to 
keep  guard  here  for  another  hundred  years." 

The  student  listened  to  this  tale  in  mute  wonderment.  Ho 
had  heard  many  tales  of  treasure  shut  up  under  strong  enchant- 
ment in  the  vaults  of  the  Alhambra,  but  had  treated  them  Q£ 


.   THE   IKON   COFFEE.  4:15 

fables.  He  now  felt  the  value  of  the  seal-ring,  which  had,  in  a 
manner,  been  given  to  him  by  St.  Cyprian.  Still,  though  armed 
by  so  potent  a  talisman,  it  was  an  awful  thing  to  find  himself 
tete-a-t6te  in  such  a  place  with  an  enchanted  soldier,  who,  accord' 
ing  to  the  laws  of  nature,  ought  to  have  been  quietly  in  his  grave 
for  nearly  three  centuries. 

A  personage  of  this  kind,  however,  was  quite  out  of  the  ordi- 
nary run,  and  not  to  be  trifled 'with,  and  he  assured  him  ho  might 
rely  upon  his  friendship  and  good  will  to  do  every  thing  in  his 
power  for  his  deliverance. 

"  I  trust  to  a  motive  more  powerful  than  friendship,"  said  the 
soldier. 

He  pointed  to  a  ponderous  iron  coffer,  secured  by  locks  in- 
scribed with  Arabic  characters.  "That  coffer,"  said  he,  "con- 
tains countless  treasure  in  gold  and  jewels,  and  precious  stones. 
Break  the  magic  spell  by  which  I  am  enthralled,  and  one- half  of 
this  treasure  shall  be  thine." 

"  But  how  am  I  to  do  it  ?" 

"  The  aid  of  a  Christian  priest,  and  a  Christian  maid  is  neces- 
sary. The  priest  to  exorcise  the  powers  of  darkness ;  the  damsel 
to  touch  this  chest  with  the  seal  of  Solomon.  This  must  be  done 
at  night.  But  have  a  care.  This  is  solemn  work,  and  not  to  be 
effected  by  the  carnal-minded.  The  priest  must  be  a  Cristiano 
viejo,  a  model  of  sanctity ;  and  must  mortify  the  flesh  before  he 
comes  here,  by  a  rigorous  fast  of  four-and-twenty  hours :  and  aa 
to  the  maiden,  she  must  be  above  reproach,  and  proof  against 
temptation.  Linger  not  in  finding  such  aid.  In  three  days  my 
furlough  is  at  an  end ;  if  not  delivered  before  midnight  of  the 
third,  I  shall  have  to  mount  guard  for  another  century. 

"  Fear  not,"  said  the  student,  "  1  have  in  my  eye  the  very 


416  A  SHADOWY   EMBASSY. 

priest  and  damsel  you  describe  ;  but  how  am  I  to  regain  admis- 
sion to  this  tower?" 

"  The  seal  of  Solomon  will  open  the  way  for  thee." 

The  student  issued  forth  from  the  tower  much  more  gayly 
than  he  had  entered.  The  wall  closed  behind  him,  and  remained 
solid  as  before. 

The  next  morning  he  repaired  boldly  to  the  mansion  of  the 
priest,  no  longer  a  poor  strolling  student,  thrumming  his  way 
with  a  guitar  ;  but  an  ambassador  from  the  shadowy  world,  with 
enchanted  treasures  to  bestow.  No  particulars  are  told  of  his 
negotiation,  excepting  that  the  zeal  of  the  worthy  priest  was 
easily  kindled  at  the  idea  of  rescuing  an  old  soldier  of  the  faith 
and  a  strong  box  of  King  Chico  from  the  very  clutches  of  Satan ; 
and  then  what  alms  might  be  dispensed,  what  churches  built, 
and  how  many  poor  relatives  enriched  with  the  Moorish  trea- 
sure! 

As  to  the  immaculate  handmaid,  she  was  ready  to  lend  her 
hand,  which  was  all  that  was  required,  to  the  pious  work ;  and 
if  a  shy  glance  now  and  then  might  be  believed,  the  ambassador 
began  to  find  favor  in  her  modest  eyes. 

The  greatest  difficulty,  however,  was  the  fast  to  which  the  good 
Padre  had  to  subject  himself.  Twice  he  attempted  it,  and  twice 
the  flesh  was  too  strong  for  the  spirit.  It  was  only  on  the  third 
day  that  he  was  enabled  to  withstand  the  temptations  of  the 
cupboard ;  but  it  was  still  a  question  whether  he  would  hold  out 
until  the  spell  was  broken. 

At  a  late  hour  of  the  night  the  party  groped  their  way  up 
the  ravine  by  the  light  of  a  lantern,  and  bearing  a  basket  with 
provisions  for  exorcising  the  demon  of  hunger  so  soon  as  the 
other  demons  should  be  laid  in  the  Red  Sea. 


THE   CHASTE    SALUTE. 

The  seal  of  Solomon  opened  their  way  into  the  tower.  They 
found  the  soldier  seated  on  the  enchanted  strong-box,  awaiting 
their  arrival.  The  exorcism  was  performed  in  due  style.  The 
damsel  advanced  and  touched  the  locks  of  the  coffer  with  the 
seal  of  Solomon.  The  lid  flew  open  ;  and  such  treasures  of  gold 
and  jewels  and  precious  stones  as  flashed  upon  the  eye  ! 

"  Here's  cut  and  come  again  !"  cried  the  student,  exultingly, 
as  he  proceeded  to  cram  his  pockets. 

u  Fairly  and  softly,"  exclaimed  the  soldier.  "  Let  us  get 
the  coffer  out  entire,  and  then  divide." 

They  accordingly  went  to  work  with  might  and  main ;  but  it 
was  a  difficult  task ;  the  chest  was  enormously  heavy,  and  had 
been  imbedded  there  for  centuries.  While  they  were  thus  em- 
ployed the  good  dominie  drew  on  one  side  and  made  a  vigorous 
onslaught  on  the  basket,  by  way  of  exorcising  the  demon  of  hun- 
ger which  was  raging  in  his  entrails.  In  a  little  while  a  fat  capon 
was  devoured,  and  washed  down  by  a  deep  potation  of  Val  de 
penas ;  and,  by  way  of  grace  after  meat,  he  gave  a  kind-hearted 
kiss  to  the  pet  lamb  who  waited  on  him.  It  was  quietly  done 
in  a  corner,  but  the  tell-tale  walls  babbled  it  forth  as  if  in  tri- 
umph. Never  was  chaste  salute  more  awful  in  its  effects, 
At  the  sound  the  soldier  gave  a  great  cry  of  despair;  the 
coffer,  which  was  half  raised,  fell  back  in  its  place  and  was  locked 
once  more.  Priest,  student,  and  damsel,  found  themselves  out- 
side of  the  tower,  the  wall  of  which  closed  with  a  thundering  jar. 
Alas  I  the  good  Padre  had  broken  his  fast  too  soon ! 

When  recovered  from  his  surprise,  the  student  would  have 
re-entered  the  tower,  but  learnt  to  his  dismay  that  the  damsel, 
in  her  fright,  had  let  fall  the  seal  of  Solomon  ;    it  remained 
within  the  vault. 
18* 


4-18 

In  a  word,  the  cathedral  bell  tolled  midnight ;  the  spell  was 
renewed ;  the  soldier  was  doomed  to  mount  guard  for  another 
hundred  years,  and  there  he  and  the  treasure  remain  to  this  day 
— and  all  because  the  kind-hearted  Padre  kissed  his  handmaid. 
"  Ah  father !  father !"  said  the  student,  shaking  his  head  rue- 
fully, as  they  returned  down  the  ravine,  "  I  fear  there  was  less 
of  the  saint  than  the  sinner  in  that  kiss  !" 


Thus  ends  the  legend  as  far  as  it  has  been  authenticated. 
There  is  a  tradition,  however,  that  the  student  had  brought  off 
treasure  enough  in  his  pocket  to  set  him  up  in  the  world  ;  that 
he  prospered  in  his  affairs,  that  the  worthy  Padre  gave  him  the 
pet  lamb  in  marriage,  by  way  of  amends  for  the  blunder  in  the 
vault ;  that  the  immaculate  damsel  proved  a  pattern  for  wives 
as  she  had  been  for  handmaids,  and  bore  her  husband  a  numerous 
progeny ;  that  the  first  was  a  wonder  ;  it  was  born  seven  months 
after  her  marriage,  and  though  a  seven  months  boy,  was  the 
sturdiest  of  the  flock.  The  rest  were  all  born  in  the  ordinary 
course  of  time. 

The  story  of  the  enchanted  soldier  remains  one  of  the  popular 
traditions  of  Granada,  though  told  in  a  variety  of  ways  ;  the  com- 
mon people  affirm  that  he  still  mounts  guard  on  mid-summer  eve, 
beside  the  gigantic  stone  pomegranate  on  the  Bridge  of  the  Darro ; 
but  remains  invisible  excepting  to  such  lucky  mortal  as  may  pos- 
ecss  the  seal  of  Solomon. 

NOTES  TO  THE  ENCHANTED  SOLDIER. 

Among  the  ancient  superstitions  of  Spain,  -were  those  of  the  existence  of 
profound  caverns  in  which  the  magic  arts  were  taught,  either  by  the  devil  iu 


THE   CAVE   OF    SAN    CYPRIAN.  4:19 

person,  or  some  sage  devoted  to  his  service.  One  of  the  most  famous  of  these 
caves,  was  at  Salamanca.  Don  Francisco  de  Torreblanca  makes  mention  of  it 
in  the  first  book  of  his  work  on  Magic,  C.  2,  No.  4.  The  devil  was  said  to  play 
the  part  of  Oracle  there ;  giving  replies  to  those  who  repaired  thither  to  pro- 
pound fateful  questions,  as  in  the  celebrated  cave  of  Trophonius.  Don  Fran- 
cisco, though  he  records  this  story,  does  not  put  faith  in  it:  he  gives  it  however 
s  certain,  that  a  Sacristan,  named  Clement  Potosi,  taught  secretly  the  magic 
arts  in  that  cave.  Padre  Feyjoo,  who  inquired  into  the  matter,  reports  it  as  a 
vulgar  belief,  that  the  devil  himself  taught  those  arts  there ;  admitting  only 
seven  disciples  at  a  time,  one  of  whom,  to  be  determined  by  lot,  was  to  be  de- 
voted to  him  body  and  soul  for  ever.  Among  one  of  these  sets  of  students, 
was  a  young  man,  son  of  the  Marquis  de  Villena,  on  whom,  after  having  accom- 
plished his  studies,  the  lot  fell  He  succeeded,  however,  in  cheating  the  devil ; 
leaving  him  bis  shadow  instead  of  his  body. 

Don  Juan  de  Dios,  Professor  of  Humanities  in  the  University,  in  the  early 
part  of  the  last  century,  gives  the  following  version  of  the  story,  extracted,  as 
he  says,  from  an  ancient  manuscript  It  will  be  perceived  he  has  marred  the 
supernatural  part  of  the  tale,  and  ejected  the  devil  from  it  altogether. 

As  to  the  fable  of  the  Cave  of  San  Cyprian,  says  he,  all  that  we  have  been 
able  to  verify  is,  that  where  the  stone  cross  stands,  hi  the  small  square  or 
place  called  by  the  name  of  the  Seminary  of  Carvajal,  there  was  the  pare-" 
chial  church  of  San  Cyprian.  A  descent  of  twenty  steps  led  down  to  a  sub- 
terranean Sacristy,  spacious  and  vaulted  like  a  cave.  Here  a  Sacristan  once 
taught  magic,  judicial  astrology,  geomancy,  hydromancy,  pyromancy,  acroni 
ancy,  chiromancy,  necromancy,  <fec. 

The  extract  goes  on  to  state  that  seven  students  engaged  at  a  time  with 
the  Sacristan,  at  a  fixed  stipend.  Lots  were  cast  among  them  which  one  of 
their  number  should  pay  for  the  whole,  with  the  understanding  that  he  on 
whom  the  lot  fell,  if  he  did  not  pay  promptly,  should  be  detained  in  a  cham- 
ber of  the  Sacristy,  until  the  funds  were  forthcoming.  This  became  thence- 
forth the  usual  practice. 

On  one  occasion  the  lot  fell  on  Henry  de  Villena,  son  of  the  marquis  of  the 
some  name.  He  having  perceived  that  there  had  been  trick  and  shuffling  in 
the  casting  of  the  lot,  and  suspecting  the  Sacristan  to  be  cognizant  thereof;  re- 


420  THE  SEAL  OF   SOLOMON. 

fused  to  pay  He  was  forthwith  left  in  limbo.  It  so  happened,  that  in  a  dark 
corner  ( »f  the  Sacristy  was  a  huge  jar  or  earthen  reservoir  for  water,  which  waa 
cracked  and  empty.  In  this  the  youth  contrived  to  conceal  himself.  The 
Sacristan  returned  at  night  with  a  seiYant,  bringing  lights  and  a  supper.  Un- 
locking the  door,  they  found  no  one  in  the  vault,  and  a  book  of  magic  lying 
open  on  the  table.  They  retreated  in  dismay,  leaving  the  door  open,  by 
which  Villena  made  his  escape.  The  story  went  about  that  through  magic  he 
had  made  himself  invisible. — The  reader  has  now  both  versions  of  the  story, 
and  may  make  his  choice.  I  will  only  observe  that  the  sages  of  the  Alhanv 
bra  incline  to  the  diabolical  one. 

Tliis  Henry  de  Villena  flourished  in  the  time  of  Juan  II,  King  of  Castile, 
of  whom  he  was  uncle.  He  became  famous  for  his  knowledge  of  the  Natural 
Sciences ;  and  hence,  in  that  ignorant  age  was  stigmatized  as  a  necromancer. 
Feman  Perez  de  Guzman,  in  his  account  of  distinguished  men,  gives  him  credit 
for  great  learning,  but  says  he  devoted  himself  to  the  arts  of  divination,  the 
interpretation  of  dreams-,  of  signs,  and  portents. 

At  the  death  of  Villena,  his  library  fell  into  the  hands  of  the  King,  who 
was  warned  that  it  contained  books  treating  of  magic,  and  not  proper  to  be 
read.  King  Juan  ordered  that  they  should  be  transported  in  carts  to  the  resi- 
dence of  a  reverend  prelate  to  be  examined.  The  prelate  was  less  learned 
than  devout.  Some  of  the  books  treated  of  mathematics,  others  of  astronomy, 
with  figures  and  diagrams,  and  planetary  signs ;  others  of  chemistry  or  alche- 
my, with  foreign  and  mystic  words.  All  these  were  necromancy  in  the  eyes 
of  the  pious  prelate,  and  the  books  were  consigned  to  the  flames,  like  the 
library  of  Don  Quixote. 

THE  SEAL  OF  SOLOMON. — The  device  consists  of  two  equilateral  triangles, 
interlaced  so  as  to  form  a  star,  and  surrounded  by  a  circle.  According  to  Arab 
tradition,  when  the  Most  High  gave  Solomon  the  choice  of  blessings,  and  he 
chose  wisdom,  there  came  from  heaven  a  ring,  on  which  this  device  was  engraven. 
Itia  mystic  talisman  was  the  arcanum  of  his  wisdom,  felicity,  and  grandeur ; 
by  this  he  governed  and  prospered.  In  consequence  of  a  temporary  lapae 
from  virtue,  he  lost  the  ring  hi  the  sea,  and  was  at  once  reduced  to  the  level  of 
ordinary  men.  By  penitence  and  prayer  he  made  his  peace  with  the  Deity, 


THE   SEAL   OF   SOLOMON.  421 

was  permitted  to  find  his  ring  again  in  the  belly  of  a  fish,  and  thus  recovered 
his  celestial  gifts.  That  he  might  not  utterly  lose  them  again,  he  communicated 
to  others  the  secret  of  the  marvellous  ring. 

This  symbolical  seal  -we  are  told  was  sacrilegiously  used  by  the  Mahometan 
infidels ;  and  before  them  by  the  Arabian  idolaters,  and  before  them  by  the  He- 
brows,  for  "  diabolical  enterprises  and  abominable  superstitions."  Those  who 
wish  to  be  more  thoroughly  informed  on  the  subject,  will  do  well  to  consult  the 
learned  Father  Athanasius  Kirker's  treatise  on  the  Cabala  Sarracenica 

A  word  more  to  the  curious  reader.  There  are  many  persons  in  these 
skeptical  times,  who  affect  to  deride  every  thing  connected  with  the  occult 
sciences,  or  black  art ;  who  have  no  faith  in  the  efficacy  of  conjurations,  incan- 
tations or  divinations ;  and  who  stoutly  contend  that  such  things  never  had 
existence.  To  such  determined  unbelievers  the  testimony  of  past  ages  is  as 
nothing ;  they  require  the  evidence  of  their  own  senses,  and  deny  that  such 
arts  and  practices  have  prevailed  in  days  of  yore,  simply  because  they  meet 
with  no  instance  of  them  in  the  present  day.  They  cannot  perceive  that,  aa 
the  world  became  versed  in  the  natural  sciences,  the  supernatural  became  su- 
perfluous and  fell  into  disuse ;  and  that  the  hardy  inventions  of  art  superseded 
the  mysteries  of  magic.  Still,  say  the  enlightened  few,  those  mystic  powers 
exist,  though  in  a  latent  state,  and  untasked  by  the  ingenuity  of  man,  A  talis- 
man is  still  a  talisman,  possessing  all  its  indwelling  and  awful  properties ; 
though  it  may  have  lain  dormant  for  ages  at  the  bottom  of  the  sea,  or  in  the 
dusty  cabinet  of  the  antiquary. 

The  signet  of  Solomon  the  Wise,  for  instance,  is  well  known  to  have  held 
potent  control  over  genii,  demons,  and  enchantments;  now  who  will  positively 
assert  that  the  same  mystic  signet,  wherever  it  may  exist,  does  not  at  tho 
present  moment  possess  the  same  marvellous  virtues  which  distinguished  it  in 
the  olden  time  ?  Let  those  who  doubt  repair  to  Salamanca,  delve  into  tho 
cave  of  San  Cyprian,  explore  its  hidden  secrets,  and  decide.  As  to  those  who 
will  not  be  at  the  pains  of  such  investigation,  let  them  substitute  faith  or  in 
credulity,  and  receive  with  honest  credence  the  foregoing  legend. 

18* 


THE  AUTHOR'S  FAREWELL  TO  GRAIADA. 

MY  serene  and  happy  reign  in  the  Alhambra,  was  suddenly 
brought  to  a  close  by  letters  which  reached  mo,  while  indulging 
in  oriental  luxury  in  the  cool  hall  of  the  baths,  summoning  IQG 
away  from  my  Moslem  elysium  to  mingle  once  more  in  the  bus- 
tle and  business  of  the  dusty  world.  How  was  I  to  encounter 
its  toils  and  turmoils,  after  such  a  life  of  repose  and  reverie  !  How 
was  I  to  endure  its  common-place,  after  the  poetry  of  the  Alham- 
bra! 

But  little  preparation  was  necessary  for  my  departure.  A 
two-wheeled  vehicle,  called  a  tartana,  very  much  resembling  a 
covered  cart,  was  to  be  the  travelling  equipage  of  a  young  Eng- 
lishman and  myself  through  Murcia,  to  Alicant  and  Valencia,  on 
our  way  to  France ;  and  a  long-limbed  varlet,  who  had  been  a 
contrabandista,  and,  for  aught  I  knew,  a  robber,  was  to  be  our 
guide  and  guard.  The  preparations  were  soon  made,  but  the  de- 
parture was  the  difficulty.  Day  after  day  was  it  postponed ;  day 
after  day  was  spent  in  lingering  about  my  favorite  haunts,  and 
day  after  day  they  appeared  more  delightful  in  my  eyes. 

The  social  and  domestic  little  world  also,  in  which  I  had  been 
moving,  had  become  singularly  endeared  to  me ;  and  the  concern 
evinced  by  them  at  my  intended  departure,  convinced  me  that 


A  HUMBLE  CORTEGE.  423 

iny  kind  feelings  were  reciprocated.  Indeed,  when  at  length  the 
day  arrived,  I  did  not  dare  venture  upon  a  leave-taking  at  the 
good  dame  Antonia's ;  I  saw  the  soft  heart  of  little  Dolores,  at 
least,  was  brim  full  and  ready  for  an  overflow.  So  I  bade  a  silent 
adieu  to  the  palace  and  its  inmates,  and  descended  into  the  city, 
us  if  intending  to  return.  There,  however,  the  tartana  and  the 
guide  were  ready ;  so,  after  taking  a  noonday's  repast  with  my  fel- 
low traveller  at  the  Posada,  I  set  out  with  him  on  our  journey. 

Humble  was  the  cortege  and  melancholy  the  departure  of  El 
.Hey  Chico  the  second  !  Manuel,  the  nephew  of  Tia  Antonia, 
Mateo,  my  officious  but  now  disconsolate  squire,  and  two  or 
three  old  invalids  of  the  Alhambra  with  whom  I  had  grown  into 
gossiping  companionship,  had  come  down  to  see  me  off ;  for  it  is 
one  of  the  good  old  customs  of  Spain,  to  sally  forth  several  miles 
to  meet  a  coming  friend,  and  to  accompany  him  as  far  on  his 
departure.  Thus  then  we  set  out,  our  long-legged  guard  striding 
ahead,  with  his  escopeta  on  his  shoulder ;  Manuel  and  Mateo  on 
each  side  of  the  tartana,  and  the  old  invalids  behind. 

-  At  some  little  distance  to  the  north  of  Granada,  the  road 
gradually  ascends  the  hills ;  here  I  alighted  and  walked  up 
slowly  with  Manuel,  who  took  this  occasion  to  confide  to  me  the 
secret  of  his  heart  and  of  all  those  tender  concerns  between  himself 
and  Dolores,  with  which  I  had  been  already  informed  by  the  all 
knowing  and  all  revealing  Mateo  Ximenes.  His  doctor's  diploma 
had  prepared  the  way  for  their  union,  and  nothing  more  was 
wanting  but  the  dispensation  of  the  Pope,  on  account  of  their 
consanguinity.  Then,  if  he  could  get  the  post  of  Medico  of  the 
fortress,  his  happiness  would  be  complete  !  I  congratulated 
Lira  on  the  judgment  andTgood  taste  he  had  shown  in  his  choice 
of  a  helpmate  ;  invoked  all  possible  felicity  on  their  union,  and 


424  SORROWFUL   PARTINGS. 

trusted  that  the  abundant  affections  of  the  kind-hearted  little 
Dolores  would  in  time  have  more  stable  objects  to  occupy  them 
than  recreant  cats1  and  truant  pigeons. 

It  was  indeed  a  sorrowful  parting  when  I  took  leave  of  these 
good  people  and  saw  them  slowly  descend  the  hills ;  now  and 
then  turning  round  to  wave  me  a  last  adieu.  Manuel,  it  is  true, 
had  cheerful  prospects  to  console  him,  but  poor  Mateo  seemed 
perfectly  cast  down.  It  was  to  him  a  grievous  fall  from  the 
station  of  prime  minister  and  historiographer,  to  his  old  brown 
cloak  and  his  starveling  mystery  of  ribbon-weaving ;  and  the 
poor  devil,  notwithstanding  his  occasional  officiousness,  had,  some- 
how or  other,  acquired  a  stronger  hold  on  my  sympathies  than  I 
was  aware  of.  It  would  have  really  been  a  consolation  in 
parting,  could  I  have  anticipated  the  good  fortune  in  store  for 
him,'  and  to  which  I  had  contributed ;  for  the  importance  I  had 
appeared  to  give  to  his  tales  and  gossip  and  local  knowledge,  and 
the  frequent  companionship  in  which  I  had  indulged  him  in  the 
course  of  my  strolls,  had  elevated  his  idea  of  his  own  qualifica- 
tions and  opened  a  new  career  to  him ;  and  the  son  of  the  Alham- 
bra  has  since  become  its  regular  and  well-paid  cicerone ;  inso- 
much that  I  am  told  he  has  never  been  obliged  to  resume  tho 
ragged  old  brown  cloak  in  which  I  first  found  him. 

Towards  sunset  I  came  to  where  the  road  wound  into  the 
mountains,  and  here  I  paused  to  take  a  last  look  at  Granada. 
The  hill  on  which  I  stood  commanded  a  glorious  view  of  the 
city,  the  Vega,  and  the  surrounding  mountains.  It  was  at  an  op- 
posite point  of  the  compass  from  La  cuesta  de  las  lagrimas  (the 
hill  of  tears)  noted  for  the  "  last  sigh  of  the  Moor."  I  now  could 
realize  something  of  the  feelings  of  poor  Boabdil  when  he  bade 
adieu  to  the  paradise  he  was  leaving  behind,  and  beheld  before 
him  a  rugged  and  sterile  road  conducting  him  to  exile. 


THE   LAST   VIEW    OF   THE    ALHAMBKA.  425 

The  setting  sun  as  usual  shed  a  melancholy  effulgence  on  the 
rnddy  towers  of  the  Alhambra.  I  could  faintly  discern  the  bal- 
conied window  of  the  tower  of  Comares,  where  I  had  indulged  in 
so  many  delightful  reveries.  The  bosky  groves  and  gardens 
about  the  city  were  richly  gilded  with  the  sunshine,  the  purpl 
haze  of  a  summer  evening  was  gathering  over  the  Vega ;  every 
thing  was  lovely,  but  tenderly  and  sadly  so,  to  my  parting 
gaze. 

"  I  will  hasten  from  this  prospect,"  thought  I,  "  before  the  sun 
is  set.  I  will  carry  away  a  recollection  of  it  clothed  in  all  its 
beauty." 

With  these  thoughts  I  pursued  my  way  among  the  mountains 
A  little  further  and  Granada,  the  Vega,  and  the  Alhambra,  were 
shut  from  my  view;  and  thus  ended  one  of  the  pleasantest 
dreams  of  a  life,  which  the  reader  perhaps  may  think  has  been 
but  too  much  made  up  of  dreams. 


THE    END. 


v        .     "  T   'i\      •   "    *  t^w* 


m 


